Who am I made of clay?

I am made of clay
A blank slate at the start of the day
Dull in the sun
Have yet to see the days fun

A spin here
A mark there
Faster spins the sphere
I take shape with care

Flattened to a disc
Heated and molded
To served and be served
to be the silver plate for ones platter

Its grown hotter and I've melted down
Losing my shape with a frown
Useless I become
or am I temporarily done?

It starts to rain
and back into the ground I go
only to wait for my shape again
in times flow

I am made of clay
A blank slate at the start of the day
Dull in the sun
Have yet to again see the days fun
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Note: I know heated and molded clay cannon't be recycled. I view myself as a biodegradable human clay rather than actual clay.