An Intermission Past

 Troubled mind, empty is the teacup.

A pained split has graced itself

In the unwrinkled porcelain;

The contents—spilled.

While in trouble, nothing is truly lost,

Even in a shatter.

Let us soak up what was thought

To be a waste and regain focus

On our invaluable teatime.

The crack in our side—

An intermission past.