Although it is not

Up to you

Which thoughts

Appear in your head

You are in

Control

Of what you do

With them

How you shape them

And how you allow

Them to shape

You

Is in your hands 

Alone

For we are all malleable

And although

This makes us 

Vulnerable

It is only the 

Plasticine people

Who melt

In the glare

Of the

Dying sun