We were built like clay

As an art in the Hands of an artist.
Rolling clay side to side
Perfecting the art of the right product
Perfecting the hard clay that will match his sculter 
Rolling to perfection 
Taking a glance each time he craft
As he construct his mind to his craft
Doubting himself at time but his heart whisper continue 
Dirtying his hands at time take a cookie to his mouth 
He doesn’t see any dirty on his hand nor the cookie
Sipping a cup of coffee that is as cold as winter snow
The art lives in him
In every move he makes
Smiling at time as he start to see perfection 
We were built like clay

As she craft the explicit piece
Her mind constructs the art of colour
That will attract a glance from miles away
She smile as if it’s the final piece
She knows it’s a matter of time
Crafting her whole desire to make perfection to her art
No doubt in her heart perfection has been done
Attraction has been indulge 
We were built like clay

Umhlaziyi ozimele