I picked up a lump of clay
And worked it around until
It began to come out my way.
Looked for my design to fill.


Made it what I wanted it to be
And made it eyes look my way
The only thing that it could see
Those lovely little eyes of clay.


I made its feet to stand so still
So it couldn't move away from me
The arms only I could fill.
A brain that locked with my key.


This sweet golem that I created,
And I, the center of it's being,
Felt always loved, and never hated.


It was there because I willed it.
The center of my universe.
Feeling trapped, but I had built it.
It became my greatest curse.


It's mind was mine, my thoughts alone.
It's heart beat to my drum.
It was my spirit clone,
And my spirit had gone numb.


Where's the chase?
Where's the capture?
It's lacking grace.
There is no rapture.


I don't want this doll of mud.
I want to see the other choices.
Mental chewing at it's cud.
I need to hear some other voices.


It was mine, no other seeing.
I, the only thing that mattered.
And then I run, quickly fleeing
Hoping that it will be shattered.


It matters not, this thing of dirt.
I made it just to toss away.
It has nothing to be hurt.
No blood to flow when I slay.


I think that I will take my chances,
A live one, one I can pursue.
One that laughs and sings and dances
With smiling lips and eyes of blue.


It won't follow, where I walk.
To keep it near me, I must work.
It doesn't listen when I talk
Nor worship at my every quirk


This one is worth all my charms
The constant, restless loss of sleep.
For I didn't create his arms.
And this is one I want to keep.