Respect

I cannot become flat My curves are not straight lines My die is cast, forged by fire Yet I try to bend it for you I put the blow torch to my heart Coining it over the anvil Pressing it to new form Old shapes long forgotten, new again. Made to please you Buffed to mirrored shine. A reflection, or a phantom. But it is not me. Now the next shine has your eye It is mine again. Melted down with self-improvement Made strong again Never again to hammer against myself Knowing the value of imperfection Stay true to the die-cast Compromise but do not conform.