My Begone(r) Gook

I slapped some clay on a spinner one day
Was supposed to resemble a vase
But it splatted and flatted and ended up bumpy
Not quite the preferred touch of class.

But I shaped it and draped it with stringy-like pieces
Made a V-sign and poked in two eyes
Chucked it into a kiln, went home, watched a film
Returned and there to my surprise

My Gook came out fine, face all  feathery lined
His chin a bit on the long side
The class gave a gasp, I returned a sharp rasp
I was proud and had nothing to hide

I painted, acquainted him, jewelled him all up
A brown face with golden delights
Took him home, found a spot where it wasn't too hot
He'd watch over me during the night.

I gave up the classes, the teacher, the masses
Were glad I was not in attendance
For I had no control, of wheel, pedal or soul
A girl with no hope of transcendence

But Gook won my heart, from his clayey-like start
I kiss him each-every morn
And in certain lights or just during the night
His face can take on a strange scorn

I have noted now, it's just funny somehow
When a date spends the night in low glow
His expression will change, looking sorta deranged
And by morning - I get the heave-ho........
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Don't forget, you can meet me on the other side!