I love dolls and puppets due to the rich symbolism they both hold. Old fashion porcelain dolls tended to represent the innocence of childhood and fine craftsmanship because they were beautiful, youthful, and what children played with. They were finely dressed in fancy clothes and curled hair that showed beauty whether it was a child or a women as the doll. I see God as an artist when he crafts us because he is so detailed in his work, just as the previous doll makers once where. The modern mass produced Barbies and Bratz dolls have damaged this symbolism since now those dolls are cheap, mass produced and have had many arguments about body image against them. Puppets, on the other hand, tend to have a broad range of looks but have always had the connotation of being specifically for entertainment along and for manipulation. It is hard to manipulate a doll, and while puppets can be expensive, dolls tend to be the more popular item for collectors. I see Satan as the mass manipulator who will take people and attach strings to deals he makes with them so he can further control them. He doesn't create people; he only steals them from the One who created the people. The main idea for puppets is manipulation and fakery which is why its never a good idea to call someone a manipulator or puppeteer in a relationship. So I thought about recent articles I've written and my child like love for toys and decided to mix them. I hope you enjoy.

The Doll Maker and The Puppeteer

In my head of curls

my head spins and whirls

As I'm perched on the stand.

Dress of cashmere and silk

Skin creamy white as milk

Pursed lips and delicate hands

While on this self

I think to myself

With jaded marble eyes

Watching across the room

The poor puppets loom

Looking back at me with silent cries

As a doll

I'm loved by all

Crafted with care and displayed with pride

The hands that made me

Loves to see

The beauty that cannot hide

clean and pure

sweet by nature

Adoring to be held and kissed

But the puppeteer

who mocks and sneers

steals toys that I wished

He would just leave alone.

The puppets hang and moan

Want to return to the Doll Maker.

Their limbs caught up in a web of strings

wooden planks make a forest of things

Freedom doesn't come in the hands of the manipulator

Watching from my safe place

I stare off into space

Waiting for the craftsman to return

But late at night

I has a small fright

The puppets shake, spin and turn

So desperate to be free

they said to me

"What purpose are your legs but to take a step?

Come free us from the fibers we are caught in

For aren't we of the same origin?"

I pondered this a moment and kept

looking at their pitiful state

and asked why was I made?

I lifted myself off my stand and jumped from my self

I ran across the table

I was a little unstable

But I knew I had to help

I took up scissors just my size

They were quiet sharp to my surprise

Finally, I climbed upon the puppeteer's desk

Cutting each free

I could see they were just like me

When I used to be a mess

I wasn't always a beautiful doll

Admired by all

I used to be as boken

Until the Doll Maker remade me

With new paint, glue, and a smile of glee

And now I am looking

At why He has done this

Because he wanted me to bring bliss

To others who are in need of repair.