I Am Clay, and I Am Ugly

 I am Clay

And though all clay starts the same:

Muddy, shapeless, lame,

From the ground I have been formed into

Me.

I always wanted to be happy

So I changed my shape sometimes

But normally it was ugly, and like that

I didn’t want to stay.

Ever-searching and never-finding

‘Till one day I found a book,

And I learned that someone loved me.

I learned that someone loved me

Although I’m just a lump.

His eyes saw so much more

A vase for royalty

No longer a worthless lump

Trodden on carelessly.

In splendor, he formed me for glory

With patience, he never gave up

Though yet there’s no end to my story

Already I am looking up.

I’m not sure where to go from here,

But I’m beginning to see through his eyes:

That whatever I do will be stunning,

And I’ll stun the world as I rise

Its taken ages and ages

And still I am not perfect

Sometimes I still feel lame

Sometimes I feel like a lump.

I am Clay, and I am ugly.

But… Isn’t that perfect?

Because in my own hands I can be anything.

So,

I will be Beautiful.