I wish I was made of clay
To mold my body everyday
To remove skin
as I fill my tray
but I hope and pray
that this day
as I lay
accepted by society
slowly, as I mold my body of clay.

Sobs, weeps, weeps and sobs
As I cry the ocean bay
"You're perfect as you are." Cheerfully
they say
The cloud subsides
a hue of blue and grey
A smile creeps
clearly I was gay
I mumbled "okay."
And on that very day
I refused
and seek no more
for the body of clay