A Few Pounds of Reddish Clay

Straight on the bed What does that lay? A mould of flesh What does it call? A human being What does it mean? Hoards, eats and sleeps When it gets tired takes rest Does it all that he possess? At pleasure it jumps In pain it coils in Does it have the power of thinking? Oh, yes, That’s the great And only quality On the basis of which A body of meat Turns into human Otherwise it remains As valueless as Few pounds of reddish clay.