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Sunday, May 20, 2012

My little ball of clay

My little ball of clay
I take it everywhere I go
The shape can change. The substance is the same

No matter what I do
It somehow always knows
Chameleon-like, it adapts to the game.

There was a time before
When all I wanted was to show
My clay ball in its most familiar state

But no matter what I tried
I always gave in to the flow
So no one else has seen the cleanest slate.

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