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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1439406
For those of you that feel too controlled by others
Clay In Your Hands

I am clay in your hands.
Shape me however you wish.
Take me by the hand, turn me into art.
Don't let me go to waste.

I am all yours.
I'm your useless slave.
I don't have a mind of my own.
Mold one for me, place it in my head.

Breathe life into my soul.
Form my arms, my legs, my body.
Let me squeeze between your fingers and away from you.
I won't be your useless slave anymore.

Place me on a shelf.
Let the people stare at me.
I'm your pretty little trinket now.
Sitting still on a pedestal is the only life I know.

Squash me flat again.
You've grown bored with me.
It's time to move on, to make something new.
Just forget about little old me.
I never mattered to you anyway.

-E. Newport
© Copyright 2008 Elizabeth Newport (adietrick8 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1439406-Clay-In-Your-Hands