Clay

Learning the hard way.

A boy within his basement found

a lump of clay;

molding and round

he shaped it into a moldy man

and formed a home from a rusty tin can

 

Every night of hours spent

the boy, the man, and cold basement

time was erased

head gone of clocks

no rings and no dings

no trivial tic-tocs

 

Dwelling in the basement still

the boy a slave to the moldy man's will

the moral, I am sad to say

is never trust a lump of clay.

Reviews

[deaths calling]

i liked it