Lotus lotus, paper thin,

How your were folded and moulded

To stand out, not to fit in

Who created you to be so … smooth?

Delicately handled

All your corners and grooves

An empty space within, but I wouldn’t call you hollow,

You were made with room to fill,

Kinda like a room I can borrow

Not the real thing but real to me,

Made for no real reason,

But your unintentional beauty I see,

From the idle hands of a creative being

No intention set, but I bet,

The process of creating you was freeing.