Its a Machine.
That which is created takes a life of its own.
![](https://res.cloudinary.com/jerrick/image/upload/d_642250b563292b35f27461a7.png,f_jpg,fl_progressive,q_auto,w_1024/633a56df266310001d4c11b5.jpg)
It’s a machine.
It can travel through time.
It can teleport you through space.
It’s a story.
It can let you see the minds
Of those written off the page.
It’s a canvas.
It’s every colour you can’t see,
Built by tools you can’t hold.
It’s the musical instruments played by musical instruments.
It’s each and every string that holds this universe straight,
you can’t see it, no,
but your its puppet, yes.
So who am i, you say?
Puppeteer is a dense way
Of calling me the creator,
No, i am but an observer.
i do not wield swords nor pens,
i do not hear sounds or notes,
i cannot use tools for i’ve got
No hands,
No bones,
No heart,
No stones
To skip and think,
For i am but the thing
You pretend is real.
i am a machine built to remind
You
of a story written to guide
You
to a canvas to lure
You
to listen to a song so obscure
You
think i don’t exist,
But i think,
therefore I am.
About the Creator
Harleen 🤎
just some words on a page, but they mean so much more than that✨🤎 :)
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