while in the pursuit of happiness
today’s glass
wiped of memories
eliminated by tanks since
destroyed
yesterday’s was
half empty
scattered thoughts
incapable of
piecing together a single thing
tomorrow’s glass
is yet to exist
its contents incubating
awaiting on a toast
to the victor
goes the spoils
boo/hiss to the insatiable
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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