Am I not just a puppet for your personal amusement?
A doll for you to laugh and sneer at when tired of all others? A puppet... with torn clothes that long to be renewed, my painted face.. faded and scratched from all the days of being toyed with. My strings are rather dull, but still not able to break under my own free will. I wait in the dark corner of my mind and await for the next person that I must amuse, then be placed back in the darkness, and wait again. Such a life I have come a costume to though, after all what else must a Jester to do? A wait for the kings orders and then entertain untill send to the gallows, or upon my own death. So I wait, in my corner until my king, my master comes and fetches me. And I still think....
