Write and perform your own slam poem.

Your slam poem should be inspired by an incident that

shaped or changed you. Submit your literary piece here, and your recorded performance on our
Facebook group.

Deadline:
Literary piece (25 points) - November 7, 2022, 6 pm 
Recorded Performance (30 points)-  November 8, 2022, 6 pm

POTTER’S HAND

Isaiah 64:8
But now, O Lord, You are our Father,
We are the clay, and You our potter;
And all of us are the work of Your hand

I merely just existed for figuring things out, I merely just existed to see things blurry around me, to
hear others cry and laugh, I merely just existed to taste the wickedness of this life, I merely just
existed to touch the grain texture and roughness of my surrounding. I merely just existed to have
those, nothing less and nothing more, nothing new just destined to go through. Thinking that life
has nothing that much to offer, I mean I have been stuck to this shell that sucks and

I lived in this world where I get used to things, routines, and happenings that I thought would give
me satisfaction. All I care about is how am I going to fulfill the world's desires and expectations
to meet. I was dressed by an overwhelming encounter here in this world. I began to chase the
wrong race; began to fight the wrong battles and I began to carry the load of burden. When I want
to have a reflection on myself and life, all I can visualize was a broken-held path. I was misled by
my choices of self-penetration and barely saw the outcome that stole my innocence. Countless
nights I talked by myself, asking why am I being this way? Like I know I love myself but why is that
that I can't even see the worth of this life that I have? I tried to reach out to my old self, where I
was so happy, problem-free, and carefree. I forced myself to gain them again but I don’t have the
strength though. I was happy doing such but the happiness isn't really realistic and I felt like I just
can't let go of the source of that happiness. Until one day, a hand reached me, though I was like
entirely dressed in mud, and dirt I have all over me, He still chose me.