The Clay Brain and The Broken Clay Man

A ball of clay sits on the floor.  It's mine I think, but not mine to mold.  A shapeless clump was where it began.  One day it shaped legs when I learned how to stand.  One day at school I saw my Principal slip and fall, I hated that bitch, but felt something odd.  She was old and mean.  Some people laughed.  I thought only of how she was as vulnerable as I, how helpless she was, and the embarrassment of it all.  I extended my hand, and brushed off her back.  She thanked me and smile, so I was contented with that.  That day I did not know it, but I had felt and acted with compassion.  That ball of clay, which now looked more like a three dimensional collage, had added a heart to it's repertoire.  The clay has made shapes of whats in my heart.  A beautiful song for some lucky souls heart.  Not for my own, though the clay thought so too.  A lust of confusion played to the wrong tune.

So a broken figure sits in a hole lined with dreams, with an arm reaching up wanting to leave, and another grasped tightly to the fantasy of those dreams.  The figure now broken wasn't always so.  He once had a friend with whom he felt whole.  Together they dreamed, together they survived, together they would escape this hole they would otherwise die.  They would give each other boosts to reach for the tops of the walls.  They couldn't quite make it, and one would sometimes fall.  Though it was frightening, the other one would always be there ready to catch the fallen.  With each passing day the clay figure would learn something new, with every new day the Clay figure and his friend would grow in size from this knowledge.  Until one day the boost was successful!  The Clay figures friend got out and looked in the hole.  He went to grab something to get The Clay figure out.  He looked all around, it was great to him, his world was much bigger, and different from the hole.  It was so beautiful that he forgot all about the Clay figure in the hole, and left him to die.

The Clay figure waited patiently for his friend, it might take a while he thought to himself.  Minutes turned into hours, and then into days and the Clay figure watched, sometimes he thought he spotted his friend!  He was overjoyed, and grew from his thoughts, he could finally go on and oh the things they could do together.

Sadly he realized it was all in his Clay head, he was always alone, maybe there was never even a Clay friend.  He looked at the walls made up of dreams.  They were now so much higher, no one could help.  A Clay tear formed, and he looked to the ground.  Without even realizing, he landed with a thud!  Hit bottom hard, so hard that he cracked.  Now broken, alone, he reached for the sky, so that someone could help him since he couldn't do so alone.  Scared and helpless, still sitting but barely, he grabbed onto the wall to keep from going any lower than he already was.