No Strings Attached

As a child, I am a puppet
The strings that manipulate me are controlled by my family
Those on my hands say, “Don’t touch that!”
Those on my legs help to teach me how to walk and run
As a teenager, the strings get weaker
And I start to become my own person
Yet the strings from I try to break free say
“Don’t stay up too late,” or “Do your homework.”
As a young adult, I hang from loose threads,
Of which my parents long to keep hold
My confidence grows vast and my freedom reaches toward its entirety
As an adult, I am human
No longer controlled by strings that bound me
As a parent, I bear the strings of my puppet child
The strings on his hands saying “Don’t touch that!”
Those on his legs help to teach him how to walk and run.