My cup, it wears a mask
of blue skies and flowers
Inside and out.
No matter what's poured within,
its beauty remains.
You, him, her, she and I,
we can pour all day long,
it never holds more than it should.
The magical part of the cup is, the shit and the
sludge and the poison sinks to the bottom
never to be heard from again.
At the top, that's the good stuff
The nectar, nourishing
all who dare to sip.
I keep it flowing...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
