Man, Mad, Mud, Chaos, Sculpture in Abstract

Life is mad, chaos and abstract 

Man be man, made from mud 

Dirt like mud, blurred like mad 

And to each, his own to mold  

What with choices made by hand 

Of those to pick left or right, to have 

And to each, each to each 

What shape pictured in visions set 

To have imagined, in dreams had

To be left to dry out; clay from mold 

And  be presented as done, a form of sculpture 

And to each, in galleries stood 

Dry and baked in mold of clay 

And be served as done, as done 

And to each, what comfort desire

 Dry baked and glazed, in clay 

And be served as done, as done 

And to each, what dreams aspire 

To have ended, with a pot 

Vase or China plates, in mold of clay 

Or be it sculpture, to stand on platforms 

Life is mad, sat in multiple choices 

Chaos and abstract, with links 
Blank the sight in crystal balls to know before   

And to each, from three doors given 
What route paths chosen to know 
Life is mad, chaos and abstract, just as mad