From the fear I might defeat myself
I think I may delete myself
Start again for lesser gains
molding what remains,
clay stained fingers,
squeezing,
in the wild hope of appeasing
Kneading,
while the wheel spinning ever rapidly
due to pressure felt by the foot
descending,
insisting I become
a receptacle,
bowl shaped,
mouth taped and gullible
A repository,
for a sharp edged,
roughly sawn wedge,
sociological suppository
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