PuppetsThese puppets on my fingers remind me how to feel. They sing me silly happy songs and hope that I'll soon heal.Puppets
I do not mind my puppets, I truly love them so. But they are mother-henning me and I need room to grow.
"You should be happy," they tell me but why can't I be sad. "It's a merry Christmas tree!" ...which doesn't make me glad.
I'd like to hide my puppets,
or just maybe tape their mouth Just leave their knowing words behind and keep on heading south.
