The strings go slack
The lights go black
The puppet ceases to move
The audience claps
While a rhythm is tapped
The puppets are hidden from view
The violin plays
The audience stays
Everyone’s eager for more!
But up in the air
Face dampened with tears
A man sits and waits for his cue
In time very soon
They’ll sing the same tune
The lights will all spring back to life
Hidden from view
He knows every move
His hands are both blistered with age
Fatigue has set in
He’s run out of wind
This show must soon come to an end
He wipes off his eyes
More! The audience cries
The lights soon are about to come on
He knows this routine
This, and all scenes
He’s done it a million times
And to his chagrin
As his puppets, they spin
The audience is shocked and surprised
This routine is old
It’s often retold
And yet they all come back for more
He starts to let go
Its the end of the show
His puppets fall limp to the floor
It happens so much
His hands have lost touch
But yet they scream “encore!”
The old man descends
He’s smiling again
His ordeal's finally come to an end
His replacement awaits
Pleased with his fate
He can't wait to take over the show!
As he sees the old man
He shakes his old hand
“Thank you, and I wish you the best”
He looks at this guy
One tear in his eye
“It is you, young man I must thank”
“The audience knows not
Who works in this spot
They see only the puppets on string”
“You’ll give them a show
They’ll holler and blow
And at first you’ll be proud as can be”
“But in a few years
Your smiles turn to tears
As you realise the God awful truth”
“No matter how good
How you spin magic from wood
These people will cheer all the same”
“They’re numb to your touch
Complete fools and such
And sadly they just want a laugh”
“When reality hits
That they don’t give a shit
About your own practice and skill”
“You’ll weep and you’ll sob
While bringing joy to this mob
And be sorry you entered this place”
“So thank you again
Good luck my young friend
I know I won’t see you again.”
The master exits the floor
Heard from, no more
As the new master walks up the stairs
He thinks of his lot
Vows to give it a shot
Picks up the strings and waits for his cue
The puppets are poised
He breathes life to the toys
He smiles as he looks from his spot
“Old man, it’s not true
You've forgotten, the cue
Is not for them ....old friend it’s for you”
[November 1st 2009]
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