There was once a very pretty girl.
Her hair was dark as coal.
Her eyes were blue as a spring sky.
She was nineteen years old.
She had with her a flowerpot.
There wasn't a pot that was prettier.
The girl envied the earthen pot.
The pot was prettier than her.
All who came adored the pot.
They ignored the pretty young girl.
The pot was empty and useless.
But it was loved by the world.
The girl wanted to break the pot.
She wanted the pot to be gone.
But the girl never did the deed.
The pot was so pretty to look upon.
And so the girl and the pot lived.
Many came to admire the latter.
The pot one day slipped off its shelf.
It broke with a resounding clatter.
People went on with their lives.
The girl was very sad.
She was glad to be rid of the empty thing.
But the pot was all she had.
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PerceptioN
PoetryNo despair. No depression. Some fun. Some PerceptioN. A collection of a few little products of my boredom. My best work is in the later chapters. ... Highest rank - #169 in poetry - 5/5/16
