Puppet

A never failing smile
Graces a perfect chin
With sparkling brown eyes
To complete a quirky grin
It's weak and trusting arms
Embrace the strength they feel
When shadows from above
Raise it to it's heels
It dances in exchange
For smiles from the dark
It doesn't mind the puppeteer's
Diminishing remarks
For if it dares to flinch
Or speak once out of turn
It's polished, stiffened limbs
Are sure to end up burned
Alone up on the stage
As people coo and sigh
They somehow seem to miss
That her polished hands are tied