That tumbler, with perfect creases,

And the perfect capacity.

It holds exactly one quarter worth of the golden elixir,

That used to hold and tear my life.

I was asked to leave it, but sometimes it calls me.

Telling me to take a sip,

Saying that my life would be whole again.

Also warning me, that it would never leave me.

It would take everyone away from me,

But it would be my sole companion. I hear these words

As I shake this tumbler of purity and poison.

Am I at its beck and call? Or am I stronger?

I know my answer as I empty the contents

Into the sink.

I actually was planning on taking this another direction. But, this idea is just a closer to home. I know the poem is a little basic though. But these prompts are quite difficult as Pari said in her blog. These prompts are being hosted by Tyler Kent White and Amanda Torroni.

 

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