A cup of something sweet, a cup of :
chocolate and strawberry, dancing with vanilla
or maybe hints of mints
and a touch of warm milk.
You drink your cup, the cup of something sweet,
and down it all, down to the last drop.
You reach for more,
but emptiness takes over
what used to be so sweet.
Staring at the cold empty cup,
you are left with a gaping hole
though your stomach may be full
you see the contentless cup.
The cup, when full, was full of warmth and light.
The cup, now empty, holds nothing at all.
So you drop it.
Millions of tiny ceramic pieces.
Never to hold sweetness again.
Is it too late?
Just buy another one.
But it seems everyone
has replaced their sweet-cups to empty hands, why?
Maybe it fell, maybe someone broke it,
either way, we all lost our sweetness-cups.
I look at my foe, with her tiny sweet-cup,
it can only hold so much, compared to mine.
Still, she's the one with the cup, not I.
There was a rumor, you know,
that if you break your cup,
that they'll let you get one twice its size.
I once knew an old man, with a cup 10 times his height
only made out of, the pieces of his past sweet-bearers.
Maybe one day, my cup will be taller than me
until then, I can cradle my empty hands
and start saving for a new one.