Empty Cups (Poem)

He opens the cupboard

A set of coffee cups

—The first picks of course

With their voluptuous curvature

And the type of handles

That a man’s hand can’t resist.

The coffee cups are on the second shelf

First in view, easy access too.

Surely, he will drink from it.

The type of cup

Who has been drunk by everyone.

Aroused, but never left satisfied.

Then there’s the fine china

Sitting on the top shelf of course.

With such beauty, dignity, and grace.

Unlike a basic coffee cup

They exude wisdom, depth, and virtue.

But even for the finest of china

A man isn't willing to reach for it

Instead, he drinks from that which leaves him thirsty

Neglecting the cup of value

That could satisfy his quench forevermore.