Empty Glass Poem by Joshua Hillard

Empty Glass



Two metaphors,
Half empty, half full,
But when the cup tips,
The half becomes null,

A standard in life,
To a temptation to refill,
This motto we must prescribe,
Our hearts need a sequel,

The analogy to our story,
Based on a level of volume,
Can we add density to the equation?
Or is it an impossible problem?

I must go on with an empty cup,
For which I attempt to regain,
It starts half empty, or half full,
At the bottom, I'm in vain,

No chemical can seal these cracks,
No materials can seal these holes,
Every ounce gained, is every ounce lost,
This is the cup that I have chose,
Bound to its integrity,
The stature of its limits,
As I drink, I begin to see,
Nothing I do can begin to fill it,

Weakness of its property,
Questioned by every drop,
For my heart shakes each second,
Begging for the day it to stop,

Determined by a single glass,
A line singled through the middle,
As I progress, I digress,
Fading little by little,

I shall not live on an anomaly,
An abysmal metaphor to life,
I shall fill this cup with my own pride,
Half; full, wrong, and right,

My glass shall find its fluid,
Contain each and all to pass the line,
Pick it up, and rebuild its wall,
Empty to full, until the end of time…

Sunday, September 14, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: metaphor
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