Him
Snap out of your mood
I own you
Stop being so sentimental
It affects my work life
If only you were not so sloppy
Stupid and sensitive
I am pulling the strings dammit
Dance, dance
But before that for goodness sake
Wear something nice
No one likes a shabby puppet
Anger is interspersed by fatigue
Weariness at the recalcitrant doll
Dented, and not painted
Pulling me down with the force of
Her grief, which by the way is not greater than mine
I tell her again and again
Stupid puppet, does not listen
She has inherited her stupid genes from her mother
Or her mother has wished it upon her
Through some sort of a narcissistic spell
Every time she speaks to her mother
She turns against me
Me the master puppeteer
Who could be better for her?
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