My Life As A Coffee Cup

Once but a shallow bowl
half full
of black caffeinated sugary goo.
Now in its shadowy depths
I cry
for that welcome and refreshing refill.

My life as a coffee cup
was spent watching
with cold indifference
as they sipped their large pink smoothies
and shot out the door with lattes to go.

Monuments of shrugs and shadows
build on this shelf.
I need people to order
just one cup of joe.

Filled to the brim
and emptied out quick.
The conversations,
the cigarettes and lips.

My life as a coffee cup
all stained and cracked -
cute little slogans
worn thin.

I share space with the rest
each for twenty five cents.