I was always waiting,
To when will my cup be filled.

I kept on pouring consistently,
But it stayed half-empty still.

I was too late when I saw,
A crack on the side of my cup.

All the water was leaking,
I've tried to patched it up.

But no matter how hard I did,
The water still slipped through.

I clutched it tighter, stronger,
And there I was mistaken.

The cup started to break,
And so did I.

And in the shards I saw the truth,
It wasn't the cup, it was the use.

I tried to fill it from the outside,
Not realizing it was empty within.

Now I gather what's left,
Piece by piece,

And realize that I will always be insufficient.



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