Clay Pots
by Robert LaBargeShe lived in a clay pot
away from the pain
of people who hurt her
who all said the same
you'll never be happy
I'm better than you
just stay where you are
while I paint you deep blue
she stayed there so quiet
up high on a ledge
just watching life passing
while close to the edge
but one day a door slammed
her pot tottered round
falling away quickly
smashed to the ground
sharp pieces were scattered
they flew everywhere
some cut her quite deeply
cause life wasn't fair
large boots trampled hard
and ground them to dust
sat there for a moment
then left in a gust
this brought about tears
which filled up the room
turned dust into clay
not a minute too soon
scraped up by a potter
laid sure on his wheel
forming a vessel
of wondrous appeal
now He is the potter
we are the clay
formed with a purpose
though life has it's sway
He'll bear all our burdens
heal all our woes
giving great beauty
from head to our toes
This poem was a finalist in the
February 2017 poetry contest
