He took
the old cup
still holding
those few
remaining drops.
Found all the cracks
and chips,
threw us
away.
Careless
he trod the spill
beneath his feet.
I observe
how
tiny drops,
formed the last tear.
Pain
distilled
Through time
to pure
regret.
He returned
before dusk,
took
that empty cup
gently in his hand.
It sits again
in the shadows
on our shelf,
amongst
all those tattered
memories
shattered hopes
unrealised dreams
a litter
of misunderstood
cornered efforts.
Reminding us
whenever we glimpse
its creamy gleam
that once
our cup
overflowed
