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Since when were you a potter,
Or a sculptor of the arts?
Since when did you discover
The secrets of the heart?
When will you start learning
You can not squash me flat
To change me and re-mould me
Into your quiet doormat?
I refuse to be stepped over,
And if you want my love, you'll learn
To accept me as the girl I am
And let my voice be heard.
©2005-2009 ~skies-of-blue
:iconskies-of-blue:

Author's Comments

Before anyone I know asks, no this is not about anyone I know, it is completely random. It's inspired by various poems my friends on deviant have been doing lately, mostly about being accepted for who they are. I suddenly got this image in my head about someone trying to mould a person as if they were made out of clay, and I just wanted to get it down in a poem, lol. All my poems so far have been scribbled down in the space of about 3 minutes so far which is a bit worrying, but I'll try and come up with something longer and well thought out next time, lol.

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:iconfree-bird:
dammit you be so good...

--
take a whiff on me take a whiff on me
everybody take a whiff on me
i said a hey
hey
baby take a whiff on me
:iconskies-of-blue:
merci :)

--
Ignorance is bliss
:iconsaraikristi:
I could've sworn I commented on this earlier...really...
Anyway, great metaphors, with the clay and whatnot. The whole thing is brilliant, but the first four lines really jump out at you.

--
"The few, the proud, the commentors."
-Benn-dawg
:iconirishgollum:
i got this from james favs, he's rele right. amazing, there are hundreds of poems on here about this tuype of thing, but you put a differnt spin on it, i really like.

--
'It take a very special lady to please me, of several average ones.' Bill Hicks
:iconskies-of-blue:
thanks, glad you like it :)

--
Ignorance is bliss

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February 28, 2005
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