As master kneads and fondles the entity that I am, he says nothing but his silence fills the room.
He tugs and pulls at all different angles causing me to gasp at his dominance.
He subtracts a lil bit of this and adds a lil bit of that but sprinkles just enough of his personality to wipe out my individuality.
At the beginning I believed I was a clay thing who learned to love her potter's touch
But I was wrong; when clay sets up its form is too permanent, my potter need to have the ability to change me whenever he likes.
For I am his play dough, that obeys the strokes of his fingers and basks in the attention on his watchful eye.
I am his play dough that fits in any mold and transforms into every thing.
But subtract master and all you have is mush... or better yet do I even exist?...I don't even know who I am anymore!