Wooden Gentleman

A puppet
A serious puppet
A puppet that started as a fragile tree swaying in the silent breeze
A puppet wearing a vibrant blue suit, paint fading through time
This puppet wails stop as young children play with it
His strict, antique body is all held as one by a single, smooth, wooden stick
He’s done bad business and ended up in a play room
He can still relive the fine wooden blade crunching through his delicate, wooden soul
Now he’s trapped, cradled in his nightmares of when he turned into what he now has to live as
A puppet
A puppet that’s been on mountainous adventures
A puppet that’s sat on many mantle pieces and decorated many homes
A puppet that wears a stern blue suit and whose looks scream the word business
He’s not a toy he’s a wooden gentleman