Half Full

The Struggle of the Cautioned Pessimist
Eyes strained
Forced to find substance in emptiness
It draws near
Too close, and comfortable
To recognize nothing, is there.
quiet companion
Did I not hear you once again?
Is your voice muted by the noise
of silence?
Deaf ears,
Blind eyes,
No words uttered
No treasure to be found.
Yet, YOU say it’s there
Half of it!
Oh, how do I find contentment in halves!
To have or not to have
At least half of what I want
Whine, complain, cry
In despair
Selfish, ingrate, and entitled
But I can’t deny it!
That I want it.
And, I want it now.
Though I know
What I know it is
That my happiness does not
Rely on it.
Or does it?
Give me the damned half-empty glass!
Let’s toast it…Cheers!
And I as swallow the half of your optimism
I am left with what I claim.
It is empty…
It is empty…

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