Doll

I begin as a doll, blank, mannequin, simulacrum. I look like everyone else only from a distance. I want to be more, but I don't quite know how. Soon I find a master, and I think I become more than a doll. I dress like my master, move like my master, even talk, laugh and sing like my master; for I can do such a pretty imitation of my master's voice. I take what makes my master powerful, what gives them form, and imbibe it into myself. But for all my effort, nothing has changed, but now I know no way out. I am still only a doll.