The next day,
the artist formed the clay,
molded it in his most unique way.
He couldn't mold in the sunshine,
but he went on and sipped his red wine,
finished his gormet dine,
hoping the next day would be fine.

Everyday he worked his clay,
his day worked him the same way.
He worked with a frown,
each trying day pulled him down.
He was being formed like his clay,
until he final figured it this way.

The artist positively formed his attitude,
faced his mirror in gratitude,
wiped away his frown,
danced around the room like a clown.
Ran outside to faced the rising sun,
put his work aside and had some fun.

O