Wooden doll under control. My body is wood with classic clothes. In the mid’s 60’s proform on stage. Can’t walk and say hello. I am under control by a master. A woman used to be free. Now a puppet with no tears. Children want me to be a doll. But transform into a mindless puppet. Only look eye to eye. And master voice like me. Wish to be a normal human. But under witch craft spell. Puppet sing inner soul. Made not dances alone. And sing a song. But a wooden remain silent. Lock up in the room. Feel the cold breeze’s and spider webs. A puppet doll got to put on the show. Or misplace with the rest of those toys. Was a human and now a slave. Puppet soul trap forever.
