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Mold Some Clay (or Some Such As)

I've decided I'm vaguely artistic
I don't play the part very well
People who meet me have no idea
It's a scary thought, so much inside
That nobody knows about you
But I'm harmless, maybe that's why
I need to be more dangerous
Not physically but in my words
Creating discomfort in my manner
Almost disdain but saved by intrigue
I suppose winning is being remembered
But who lives on their memory of you?

There's so much of life to tend to
When I am myself it's a bit of a commercial
Regular programming is so unhealthy
Unhealthy to your being, you give it away
But there's still lots of love
Even in the midst of the pompous earth
A shiny car full of chrome and power
Noisy, not able to really do anything
Except take you somewhere
It's a strange relationship
You admire it but it's helpless
Until you do something about it

Doing something about it
That's really the thing isn't it?
Even a masquerade is something
Especially if it's the real you
They might laugh and say, "Look!"
And then they walk away
Leaving you in your mask
But is it a mask, your face is plain
Nobody can tell what you mean
So you give them something obvious
And listen as they justify being normal
While you write a poem or mold some clay

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