Soul Puppetry
There were strings
to my actions and who
was holding them?
who else but imagination
Cartoons swimming in my head,
knee deep,
flooded with fantasy,
enough to make me artificial
And my joints were
riveted by purposeful immitation,
so as to steal the limelight
from reality,
well I succeeded
But somehow, this self-manipulation,
manipulated myself
and morphing to characters,
as the strings of immitation
were pulled and dropped
also moved from human
to walking cartoon
My skin become wood,
but my nose wouldn't extend
as I transformed into a breathing
lie because I was
a wooden actor,
artificial,
a puppet on the stage
of attention.
By Kakraba Afful
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