Lil poem
Take a piece of clay
Take hours moulding it
Make sure that it’s perfect
Then destroy it
Repeat this process
Repeat it over and over again
When the clay changes, don’t stop
Ignore the change in consistency
Ignore how it looks less perfect every time
Just spend more time perfecting it
Just keep repeating the process
The tiredness will begin to sink in
Your hands will begin to ache
You can’t stop, you don’t get a choice in this
You must repeat this process regardless
If you give up, the clay won’t be perfect
The clay will dry up, become desolate
You’ll throw it away, you won’t need it
Instead your going to repeat the process
Your hands are moulding this
Yet your also destroying it
Your making yourself
Yet you’re also destroying you self.
@Malecfan
@Malecfan
I love the way poetry allows people to express themselves.
But sometimes it is hard to read.
I can feel your pain. The frustration. The never getting it right. Nothing you do being good enough.
But you know, that lump of misshapen clay is a work of art. It's exhaustion, disappointment and hopelessness all in one place. It says something, just like your poem.