Silence filled the air, no voice in reply Then spoke a vessel, with an awkward sigh Mocked for its tilt, its unique design Yet it questions, did the potter's hand decline?
They sneer at my stance, my unconventional form But I embrace my shape, weathering the storm Was it a flaw in the making, a potter's mistake? Or am I crafted uniquely, no need to forsake?
Embracing imperfection, standing tall and bold I challenge their judgment, breaking free from the mold No hand of the potter wavered in its craft Each curve and angle, a testament to the draft
In every lean and tilt, I find my strength A symbol of resilience, regardless of length I defy expectations, I challenge the norm An embodiment of artistry, reborn
So let them scoff and sneer, I stand undeterred A vessel of character, from which stories are heard For in my tilt and sway, I find my true grace A masterpiece of purpose, in this peculiar place