Cup Half Full

Mon, 08/03/2015 - 20:25 -- Lynna

On Tuesday I ran home

Just to get away from school

I can't stand how the people

Are so judging, are so cruel

 

They look at me, disgusted

As if they wish that I was dead

They make me feel so worthless

That I believe it in my head

 

So I come home and have a drink

Anything will do

Some days coffee, others juice

Some days gatorade that's blue

 

I open up the cupboard

And dry the tears from my eyes

In front of me are shelves of cups

Each a different shape and size

 

There are cups made out of glass

Ones that are decorative, or tall

Large mugs made to handle heat,

Plastic cups to withstand a fall

 

There are cups with memories

Sloppy handprints on the side

There are cups made just for use,

These ones large and wide

 

But people don't judge a cup

For its looks, nor its design

Each cup has its own purpose

And that seems to work just fine

 

But if I was to pour orange juice

Into a mug made for tea

No one would judge the cup

They would only judge me

 

And if I drank my soda

In a glass made for wine

It wouldn't be all too different

From the cans used all the time 

 

Because when it comes to cups

Society has got it right

It's what's inside that matters

Whether tea, or juice, or Sprite

 

The outside isn't important

No matter how fancy the design

But when it comes to people

That's where they draw the line

 

For some reason, people

Are not judged by their heart

Their looks are what matter most

Right from the very start

 

I wish life wasn't like that

It doesn't take that long

To get to know a stranger

Instead of judging them all wrong

 

I like to think that I'm a cup:

Though I don't look the best

I'm a kind and caring person

No different from the rest

 
Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741