the delicate tea cups sit on a shelf
dreaming delightful thoughts of being filled
waiting upon the day to soak in their sweet promises
one by one, year after year
the cups crash unto the floor
shattering into hundreds of pieces
leaving an unrecognizable pattern on the floor
too tired and distraught to sweep up the fragments
a graveyard of wishes for me to mourn
the last cup sits upon the shelf
and all i can do is hold my breath
whispering a silent prayer that this one will remain.
~ wendi is the author of two books, you can view them here.
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