
Untitled Poem #1
Read Count : 131
Category : Poems
Sub Category : N/A
Oh God, Make of me what you will? I am but a lump of clay In your skilled hands. And although I have survived many a condition, These storms have but made me Easier to mold. Adding resilience to my being and a somber strength to my one day finished soul. However, without your touch, I'd remain simply a lump of clay.