Moulding clay of cream shaped into smiles and laughs, Oh how I can fool they by the masks I put on, Rarity of one seeing them as they are masks lies, They become victim to time and age cracking and peeling, Painting over the peels moulding over the cracks deformed it looks not human, Dug up the garden is in search for clay, Digging and searching like a hungry animal for food the need for the mineral grows, Hands covered in dirt and rivers of blue gorges of red leek, The dirt stings yet I go on in search for the mineral, Grasping the clay I start to mould white paint gracing over with red and hazel pops of colour, Anew the cracks and peels a new has replaced the peels and cracks placing the mask with the rest I stare, She is inside her cave as she stares as I look at my work, She is safe she is away from pain she is hidden from the outside world she is protected she will never leave, Because she means everything to me.