The Empty Glass

A faded glass it's contents none

Covered with fingerprints and sharp cracks

The object tainted as it's heart is done

The pure water it sure lacks

Now he walks in with a jug

From the back of the cupboard he pulls out the glass

Ignoring all of the polished cups and mugs

Why he decides to pour it in there instead one may ask

He pours in the water slow

But it leaks out from the cracks

Until the jug also empties one may know

That no supply lasts forever in a world of black

Maybe the glass just can't be filled

The pourer will pick another glass

But it wants that sweet water still

Before it breaks as the time shall pass

Will the glass that's been through every endeavor

Be empty for always and forever?