Even when there are no strings
you are still a Puppet
frail, exposed, vulnerable 
paper glued to a bamboo stick
hanging on the wall
your life a game
soulless, voiceless
your limbs at mercy – creek
your raised arm 
a tame shallow protest 
your knees bent limp 
in listless surrender
to the ruthless regime.

We, the Puppets of  the land
Resolve, to hang by the wall.

– RA, 12 May 2022