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.



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