PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Girl Puppeteer


The dark of the night

Was darker than any other.

Quiet, too quiet.

A little girl

Shifted and turned in her bed.

She felt a chill

Run down her spine.

She shut her eyes tight and tighter.

She saw her.

That puppeteer she feared.

Hypnotizing her with

Eyes as white as the moon.

She controlled every arm

And every leg.

She plays with the strings

As if they were an instrument.

The little girl imagined

The puppeteer almost grabbing her.

She opened her eyes to see

Strings attached to her arms and legs.

"Is this my dream?" The little girl screamed.

A loud chuckle came from above.

"No, it is not."

 

 

 

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.