Woman: Unbaked Clay

She’s unbaked clay
to be molded ever

her smile, her laughter
her gait, her manner
are destined to shape change ever.

For each hut brought down by the wind
she’s to accept the blame;
in the face of annoyances
she’s expected to yield
to calm the blizzard.

She’s expected to hide her tears
and remain presentable ever
for she’s told to appear as a flower ever

She gathers compliments
that turn dry like the flowers in a basket;
unmindful of exhaustion
she starts out in their search again.

She’s tripped over and over,
she stands up on her own
to put together the broken dream-
adept she is at hiding cracks.

The world is full of advice for her,
ever ready to pick holes;

she does pay heed –
she wants him at all cost.

 

Image Source: MS Office Image<http://officeimg.vo.msecnd.net/en-us/images/MH900040412.jpg>

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Woman: Unbaked Clay

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