The Puppet Queen

She has little puppets on strings you see
And when she gets bored she picks them up to live and to be
She pulls them left and right, backwards and forwards
She makes them push and shove one another, push and shove
Sometimes she makes them dance together in a beautiful spiral of love
As she does all of this she smiles deviously down at them

She is pretty to the eye, the puppet queen
But she has a deep dark evil that has yet to be seen
Her puppets innocent in their own way, look up in awe
They see the queen as perfect without a flaw
If the queen shall grow bored of playing with her “tools”
She shall begin playing games on innocent little fools

The puppet dolls will be in disbelief and sore
When all is broken and they lie in pieces on the floor
The puppet queen stands before them with that same devious smile
She will not play with them anymore, at least not for a little while
She will play other games with other little tools
She will play meaner games with innocent little fools

When the fools are fools no longer
The puppet queen will find new tools to play with
She will swing them back and forth, side to side
And they will stay a long in awe for the ride
The innocent puppets will fight and shove
Unknowing of course to the evil just above

They will always stare up at their queen
The will always look up in complete awe
A woman with beauty, a woman with no flaw
A woman with anger, a woman who owns a saw