Wine Glass.

I am your desperate wineglass
My stem incorrigibly typical
And motionless within your fist

I possess the poison
That longs to touch your lips
And rip you from reality

Yet, I am your fragile wineglass
When you force your hand to grasping me
Without mindful notice
I shatter to indecipherable pieces

I am still your wineglass
With less meaning than before
But I am still your wineglass

Through fear that my jagged pieces
Will slice your skin and make it bleed
You brush me into a dustpan
And toss me with the trash

I am your desperate wineglass
Though you seem to disregard
I am your desperate wineglass
Not more than futile, but existent.