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