Someone’s Story


The chipped cup lay buried

In the kitchen closet

Layered with sticky grease and dust

Nine weeks back when it arrived

Was welcomed with delight

A new addition in the crockery

Took the prime seat in the cabinet

Confabbing my favorite, my essential and mine only

A new credence Mr. Cup grew with

Unstintingly serving him and her, them and those

No matter when, always ready never late

Knocked about and around, inside and out

Flirted with rosy lips and trapped the lip stains

Its brim indulged musky, foul and morning breath

Blowsy time, bleak and barren the cheery cup

Nick and snick with use, overuse and misuse

Confabbing unusable, obsolete, not mine

A self-doubting Mr. Cup faded with

Sitting tight to be free someday


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