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Clay Has No Say
My life is just a piece of clay,
It's being molded each and every day.
The potter is molding me with His hand,
He has to start over again and again.
He's trying to make of me a great piece of art,
He works on me with all His heart.
I know the potter has my best interest in mind,
He's patient, He's loving, and He's kind.
He's made out of me all that He could,
He is working all things out for my good.
It's up to the potter what He makes with the clay,
When on the potter's wheel, the clay has no say.
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By Charles E. Fitzgerald 05/03/2005
Lakeland, Florida
Copyright ©2005 Charles Earnest Fitzgerald
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