Bucket Poem by Vera Sidhwa

Bucket

My bucket was filled with the clearest water.
I swooshed it around
And it played with me.
But I threw the water out.

I should've held on to it
For it was comfort giving
But I didn't keep it.
I took the comfort for granted.

I took the comfort for granted
And then I saw huge obstacles in my path
A path so crooked, I couldn't walk upon
It was a bad adventure you see.

My bucket was filled with the clearest water
And I filled it with the clearest water again.
I did not swoosh it around.
I never took for granted that which gave me comfort.