Starving down to strings
Let me be your instrument
Hollow and wooden
The cask of a tree I used to be
Use me
Write the world songs so I might be useful
I am clay
Shapeless, faceless, gray
Shape me in your hands to something beautiful
Or at least something to be looked at
I compost down to dirt
Plant everything that'll grow
Make something from my nothingness
Let me help you make the impact on the world I cannot make
I will you my broken useless body, oh maestro, oh artiste, oh botanist, oh you with potential and light
Make art from this deep garbage