Pieces of Glass
I am a craftsman
I make a copy of myself
For the purpose of destruction
My materials are
Small pieces of colored glass
Which I piece together
Using molten metal
I create the perfect copy
And think my work is done
Only to smash it to bits
When I find time stressful
I am changing strategies
A craftsman is never finished
We cannot create perfection
Once my next copy is complete
While in the ecstasy of moving
From Creating to Created
I will Smash my Creation
And take delight
At all the new shapes of glass
The material never changes
Yet the changes within
My material is Infinite
The result of Creative Destruction