Clay Men

My idle hours are spent

On any project that

Doesn’t use too much

Energy, or blow what

Little life I have

In evening solitude.

Now I am whole again,

Growing is an option.

Clay men feel ambiguous,

Liking to bathe, but

Anticipating their own meltdown,

You see, I am one of them.

Published by

Julia Dean-Richards

Julia is a writer and performer living in the Shropshire hills. Her writing is a product and expression of the love she has found whilst journeying through the most difficult times of her life.

please feel free to comment on these poems - all feedback appreciated. :)

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