The clay has set to **** the one
wanting something beyond their form
now that time has set the frame
with assurance of no change

except for aging that betrays
desires lost in beauty's maze
looking at the warped glass
mirrors stating the opposite

perhaps a chance once thrived
to portray the paradigm
even this is held to doubt
lost in decades far behind

now the clay is only fit
to be ground by the fist
reduced to dust as nature asks
aberrations to step aside.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191022.