I said it.

On Cookies and School and the loving we do.

Oh the beautiful shapes,
the sizes,
colors, and style.
The infinite possibilities of creative thought.
We ever so gently
pick them up,
and kiss them
and nurture them,
and love them as they are.
And slowly place them in the mold.
and we turn the screw to the press,
one day at a time,
one lesson at a time,
one correction and admonishment at a time.
until finally they pop out.
Perfect little cookie cutter,
perfect little cookies.
A little lost here,
a little creativity squished out there.
Our own little priceless mutations.
so much better than the mutants that refused the mold.
Half squished, have formed.
Hideous and useless.