The glass; all but overflowing. Positioned lofty at the border of the existing,
menacing table. It withstands the urge to tremble, maintaining a
mighty balance in attempt to stay on. Iron-willed. However
vigorous the wind blows, it stays. However mighty the
rain’s droplets, it stays. However many individuals
pass, it stays. It’s almost immobile, holding
the absolute truth to ultimate fortune.
Though, its contents unknown to
the world. Invisible. The wind
never brushed up against
its brawny sides. The
rain never trickled
down it’s inside.
All because it simply doesn’t exist.
I have parents who always dreamt of leaving India to find opportunities in the United States. Along the way, they faced adversity and, at times, accepted failure. I write this poem using my parent’s experience to convey that the concept of success is nearly an imaginary idea as no one is able to withstand every obstacle without failing first. I convey it through the metaphor of a glass cup.
Rashmika Manu is an 11th grader attending high school. She enjoys using poetry as a form of expression. She is passionate about travel and hopes to fight poverty when she is older.