What is lost?
What has gone?
You're holding an empty cup
that once held a most nourishing juice.
It held memories of a flawless past,
and hopes for an endless future.
But as you stare into the corpulent chasm,
and squeeze the moribund fruit for its last teardrop,
the memories remind you of
what is lost,
and the hopes are echoes as you scream into the cup for
what has gone.
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