Consulting with my Sculptor
I critiqued His use of clay
To create my well carved features
In such a careful way:
My eyes are held in hollowed
Holes of hardened clay
Though the hue be not hallowed
They’re heavenly all the same.
This nose be a beautiful bridge
Baked by bronze- brown clay
Unbroken by blows for blood
Breeze brings sweet bouquets
Mighty words are measured
From a mouth made of clay
I mix at my leisure
My mouth is untamed
While my hips are not the widest
Of Wonders won with clay
While my waist is not the finest
Wand whittled for display
My frame is flawless and free
Formed by flowing clay
Flimsy words find their way to me
And fall on futile way
As I am an amazing art piece
And I am allowed to say
I acknowledge that my Artist
Has a way with clay
I accidentally posted a poem, which I was worried would be too offending and dumb. I'm a little embarrassed, heh heh. Even though only 5 people saw it. But that's a lot, on hellopoetry.
So, to redeem myself, I'm posting this poem of self love and acceptance. I wish I could feel like the persona, you know? Writing it, I did feel a little body positive for my own self, but the feeling didn't linger.Oh well, hope you like it!
Oh, and thanks for reading <3