The Perfect Cup

A storm in a tea cup, the warm liquid downed,
What was, what is, what could be.
Emotions twirling with the spoon.
My cup, tasting too sweet,
too sweet for me, I cannot drink,
too sweet for a life as drab as mine.

I ask for another, my mind a perfect storm.
“Sugar separate please”.
I look at the cup wondering whether I should have it plain:
My life.
I take a sip; tasteless.
Should I add the sugar? a dilemma over my consternation.
Get rid of this tastelessness, add the sugar to it – an adventure.
So simple yet so complex a thought.
‘What adventure’, I’m scared of what’s beyond.
Do I need this sweetness?
Question awaiting an answer.

I take one lump – one small lump.
What if I start with something small?
The cup a little sweet, but no big change.
I add a bit more.
My dreams expanding – the cup tasting better.
My smile widens – a plan takes its shape.
A little more sugar – the cup just amazing,
I am awake to the future.

No more sugar – thank you.
I know where I need to draw the line.
Thinking too much is a little too much sugar for me.
Before I sweeten it too much that I throw the cup away.
I make my plan, the dawn of a new me.
Two lumps sugar please – the cup perfect.






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