Beyond repair

It barely shows at first
Just a hairline fracture
Nestled beneath the rim

The slow erosion over time
Overuse making it’s mark
On creamy porcelain skin

Pressures of everyday life
Gnawing against it’s existence
Forcing the blemish to grow

Branching out across the belly
Of this old china teapot
Weakening both surface and below

We see them of course
Yet don’t worry about the strain
Continuing to fill it to the brim

As long as it’s job is done
The outcome still the same
We won’t question the state within

Until that one day
Water will seep from the cracks
Dampen wooden worktops
And split open from the pressure
Only then do we acknowledge
And despair at it’s demise

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