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Reforming Clay
I felt like a clay pot
once from the earth
Born with spirit, soul cropped
The owners; my guardians, held me
They allowed me to be used
for my true purposes,
not as a pot but a holder of life;
Extraordinary.
Later, others wanted me to be a pot for use
To look and act like other pots
Or my uniqueness challenged their sameness
So I became like them, soul lost.
...Sunday 28th February 2021 8:16 pm
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