Moulded

 

Was I that girl,

You took as your muse,

The innocent canvas

For your craft to abuse,

*

Was I that girl,

You traced onto paper,

Sketch book reflections,

For you, the creator.

*

Was I that girl,

You sculpted in clay,

Moulded and formed,

Till I learned to obey.

*

Was I that girl,

You painted in oil,

Rendered immortal,

In sweat and gold foil.

*

Was I that girl,

You wrote sonnets for,

Melodies of sorrow,

Of what was before.

*

Oh, I was that girl,

I know it is true,

For the woman I am,

Was created by you.