Day by day, he taught it more,
Never did teaching his creation become a bore,
It was more person by each day,
Like a child, sponging information along the way.

He came to feel love for such a soul,
Paternal love nurturing, forming his role,
Slowly turning into something more,
Feelings growing inside, like nothing before.

The creator, father, teacher, lover?
Why was this one so distinct from the other?
Like the man who both loves and hates his wife,
Confusing, unable to clarify and clear his strife.

Without a thought he began to speak,
While submissively staring at his feet,
“Why can I not love you, what is so wrong with that?
Is it not true when the heart speaks, it speaks fact?”
The puppet fell silent and refused to reply,
He thought to himself “I’ll know in due time.”

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