She’s a marionette,
a puppet, attached to several strings.
She is controlled,
by the puppet master himself.
“Master,” she says, “cut the strings and let me be; Cut the strings and set me free.”
“No,” he says and shakes his head with a tender smile.
“To cut the strings would let you be, free, to wander the world.”
“Cut the strings, oh master, please. Please cut the strings.”
Once again he shook his head and walked away from her.
He never came back after that.
He left her there all alone,
still attached to those several strings
that always mock her saying how she’ll never be free.