you asked me one day so long ago

if my glass was half empty or half full

full i nearly responded but that would be false

empty i would have said but it's not true

happy moments and memories i have known

but disappear or sadden is what they always do

my glass isn't half full nor half empty

it's cracked

hope and happiness fill to the brim

but always escapes my firm grasp

and empties out onto concrete ground

never will it be full for it leaks too much

and one day—one day soon

it will get thrown away forevermore

because no one wants a broken glass