Detox and Departing for College

The hot bronze leapt out of the mold,
Imagining it could be gold,
And to its deft sculptor it told,
"My beauty is mine to behold,
My form's beyond you to control,
I'll decide for myself how I'm rolled."
The decades of weather and cold
Will change my fresh look into old,
I'll require for peace of mind then
To know it was me who had been
My ruler and all around guard
Who, dealt to, played well my own cards.

The hot bronze leapt out of the cast,
Leaving behind what had past,
Remembering his sculptor's remarks
On what could make joints break apart,
And how one defines a good art,
How one should render his duty,
And what in good taste reflects beauty.