Reshaping Clay
I have been a block of clay all my life,
Reshaped into whatever anybody wanted.
I have been modeled into every shape and form
In order to fit certain molds.
Mom and Dad shaped me
As their little girl with a dress and bows
Not realizing that this little block of clay
Is nearly twenty-one years old.
Mom and Dad did everything they could
To protect their cute, little creation
From roaming the streets at 5:00 p.m.,
But they could not get me to enter the kiln.
Mom and Dad tried shaping me
Into thinking that I should not be
In relationships at a young age.
Too late—I avoided the kiln with two different blocks.
Mom and my sisters knew I wanted to attract men
So they tried painting me more colorful and feminine,
Thinking that I needed more intricate patterns.
But, I refused to be permanently hardened as this mold.
Try to paint me however you want,
Try carving out pieces you hate.
You will never place me in that kiln
Because I will never be permanently hardened.