The glass half empty, or glass half full
a hackneyed maxim reliant
on viewer's disposition.
Is it as simple as it reverberates
or is it the script in our head
that tightens the knots?
Scripts scribbled in invisible ink
our mind harping them tirelessly
our ego smiling to see it cemented.
Years pass the concrete
firms our stance
a thin whiff of malleability
sweats to squeeze in.
Existence then, a ping pong match
each one's script bouncing
against the other.
The unwrapped erasers of the psyche
cocooned next to the fat book, lust to shrink
Look out for the permanent markers
screams the glass half full or half empty.
It ain't easy, squirms the ego
Repair the script to match others,
Keep attempting, says the glass
Isn't other's script also
worth a look?
This poem is a reference to how opinions get fixated, convincing or getting convinced both then becoming a challenge with age.
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