Molding

"Molding" by Sara Davis

Isn’t it strange

how childhood molds us,

hands we can’t see shaping the clay,

forming beliefs, values, limits,

based on our leaders, family, and environment

before we know we have a say?

Isn’t it ironic

that as adults, when we finally hold the tools,

instead of carving, we hesitate,

unsure how to reshape what’s been hardened?

As children, we’re soft, impressionable,

and molded by the weight of others’ hands,

the beginning of scars we never asked for.

By the time we’re ready to carve out our own form,

we see the cracks,

the hurt and flaws are already baked in.

Too late to reshape,

right?

Maybe not.

But I’m working on it.

Always working on it.