Bucket - Poem by Vera Sidhwa
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.
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