Always a brimming beaker,
Indeed, a conspicuous error
Oblivious to the plethora of ubiquity,
Excoriates the perennial purity
Priceless as it was,
Although not for every Tom Dick and Harry
It stood majestically,
Crafted of crystal lucidity
Maybe it deserved a crack or two,
Coz of the naïve quality
Envisaging no mends,
The brimming beaker rose with bends
Probably it should seal its lip,
For there was no right fit
The mind battles, but the heart whispers…
Try a lil harder, it sniggers…
x
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