Over half a century I've been here.
I remember in the beginning,
I was so shiny and new.
Like a finely painted clay ***,
molded from the very hand of God.
Made a man on the outside,
with strong legs like a *** needs,
to stand full and steady.
Over years of self abuse, the *** cracked,
It fell to pieces, broken and almost destroyed.
Then a hand reached down from heaven,
and picked up the worn down broken pieces,
forming and creating them anew.
This time the *** was smooth and delicate,
intricately carved with the finest tools,
and layered with the purest gold.
Fit only for a Queen, the *** held the finest spice,
and only the most feminine of parfums.
The clay *** had found its true purpose,
Its special place in the world,
as it had always dreamed and longed to do.
The beautiful clay *** lived forever,
and blessed all who touched it,
With its new found beauty and life.

by Lj Mark 2015