A broken teacup
Once there was a cherished and loved porcelain teacup. It's shine attracted people's eyes and tea in it, their hearts. It was always far above the ground, in the arms and palms of it's loved ones. It's heart sated and heat dissipated.
But one day, it grew arrogant, it grew lazy. It relaxed and forgot, it was a tea cup. It didn't let anyone hold it, it's heat burnt a finger and it fell to the ground. It broke.
But little did it know it's future was also like it's glued body, broken and incomplete. It's laziness blew away it's good fortune. People tried using it for old times sake. But it's never the same. Slowly it was put inside for keeping safe. And the four closed walls of the shelf became it's cell, dark and lonely. They thought it was well protected, only it feels isolated and useless.
And the days passed, the thoughts brewed. It tried going back to it's glorious self, but now that’s a lost hope. Caught unaware of ways to go, it's awaits a soothing hand that shines a light. For a twinkle and sparkle in the sad lonely night.
And kept waiting.
