Clay pot

An earthen clay pot,
Slightly misshapen,
A few cracks here and there,
An inner glow of innocence,

A hand roughly moulds into desired shape,
Another bribes with the highest sale,
A third paints with colors unimaginable,
A fourth threatens with consequences dire,

Not one peeped in to see what's inside,
Not one checked the hole underneath,
With each moulding, the hole widened,
With each threat, the glow lessened,

At last a hand, to catch the escaping glow,
To wipe off the layers of paint,
To soothe with kind words,
To cherish what's inside..


This post is dedicated to all the people who peeped inside... I don't know where I would have been without you.