I am a tea cup delicate and intricate.
There are beautiful patterns covering my surface,
but if you look closer you'll see the cracks.
Every time you fill me up just to leave me empty again,
those cracks grow.
They grow and they grow and they grow,
and eventually they grow so big that I am no longer a cup.
I am just pieces of a cup, chipped and broken.
And you, having left me like this, having caused my utter and complete destruction, will not see the value in my remains.
But someone will, and when they do they'll help piece me back together understanding that the gold they use to mend my wounds only adds to my beauty.