I woke up with a craving to see
The only craft that has conquered many
A beautiful factitious faience
That needs no facelift
Nor eye specialist

A newly crafted faience
Its bottom not yet dried
With a good sparkling moulded shape
And a good concave bottom

On a lambent sun
I cross my arms with creeping thoughts
As the faience is being embraced
By a paedophile potter

I couldn’t let you know
The deep feeling within me
The love and care I had
I now sit cravenly
Cause I made a crass decision.