Empty, Full, Broken Glass

BOWENDIARIES

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Empty glass, reflection of light,
A breath of fresh air, a fresh start,
At the very bottom, I commence.
Pour a little in, not quite full
A long way to the top, It’s a tough going.
Spills maybe, if pouring is done by the slapdash type.
Meticulosity, is a virtue I must cherish.
Chilled up glass, don’t sweat too much when left to stand,
Procrastinate not, time will not lend  you beyond what she designates.
Pour in warm? You won’t be fond of drinking.
Don’t compromise the best for second-rate.
Fill up, to the brim, Maslow would be proud,
Still be mindful, to keep full, you must spill not.
The real prize is in remaining at the top.
The gold rimming is wearing off, reminding of some maintenance.
You might be elevated but some self improvement is always an honorarium.
Empty glass, now full, not always a certainty.
However fragile…

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