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.

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