That Unfinished Cup of Tea

Today, I’m remembering.
I’m remembering that unfinished cup of tea.
These photo frames with flower garlands remind me.
They remind me of the happy family that we used to be.

Oh, how the cup shattered into pieces.
Oh, how the hot tea spilt down on me.
Suddenly the air was filled with gunshots and screams.
Everywhere I looked, there was only blood to see.

In an instant, my life changed.
In just a moment it all went down.
When the terror had subsided I looked for you all,
But my scared heart was too late to realize,
that you were already gone.

It’s been days, months and years since then.
And now I’m at the same cafรฉ again.
But it still terrifies me to the core.
No, not the gunshots or blood.
No, not the agony and screams.
But only the broken and irreparably shattered pieces,
Of that unfinished cup of tea.

-Megha Bhartiya๐Ÿ’œ

ยฉ๏ธMegha Bhartiya,

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32 thoughts on “That Unfinished Cup of Tea

Add yours

  1. This shook me Madame. I can’t spare my relage if it were to be true right here , as to how I truly feel.
    ” I am reddened,
    I am shadowed ,
    I live in despair.
    I am living the darkened,
    I seeked misrepair ๐Ÿ˜ญ.”
    This is so beautiful Madame ๐Ÿ˜„๐Ÿ’œ.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This is so powerful. I love poetry that takes a huge concept and minimizes it to a single object. Such horror and pain all inside on little tea cup. Thank you for this.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Abigail, it gives me immense happiness to know that you understood and enjoyed what I wrote.
      Indeed that little tea cup held agony and sadness of no bounds, thank you so much for your sweet words ! ๐Ÿ˜„๐Ÿ’œ


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