Juice

-Juice-
by
Keaton Foster



Before me
Is a glass
Half empty
Never again to be full
Some I consumed
Much I did not
The glass does not leak
Rather its integrity seeps
Oozing through
What would otherwise be
Undoubtedly impossible
A once solid man-made mass
That has drastically changed
The chemical composition
Of its true intention
Such seepage has created a stain
Where there should be none
Such a glass is a metaphorical
Impasse that I must move beyond
Because before too long
I know that the juice
Will all be gone
Once that happens
The glass, just like me
Will serve no purpose
And hold no meaning
Such things are discarded
Devoid of purpose and meaning
Are thrown into the trash
Shattered for the sake
Of the sound of breaking glass
Oh the crash
How so many love the sound
Of purpose and meaning
Coming to their end
The sound of a man becoming nothing
Certainly this poem is a stretch
A weird way to make a point
A ridiculous way to make you
Understand what I feel I am
And what I am sure I must face
The glass before me
Half empty
Never again to be full
I see it each new day
On the table in my home
No one else knows
Because they see no glass at all
They see what their mind perceives
Such metaphorical mastery
Is sadly lost upon them
Not because they are incapable
But rather because they
Like most are unwilling
I do not blame them
Mundane normalcy
Is appealing to almost everyone
But certainly not to people like me…


Juice
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2012.