The mug that’s not

by Sherilyn Vandervalk

I am sinking into a pit of despair.
I’ve checked everyday, but it just isn’t there.
The sad thing is, it was half of a pair.
I think someone took it with nary a care.
Or perhaps they did it on a dare.
One can hardly think this behavior is fair.
Seeing once again that the cupboard is bare,
It can’t be claimed this behavior is rare.
I’m to the point of pulling out my hair.
(But some might ask if I’d used Nair)
Perhaps I’ll just go get some fresh air.
Yes, I’ll just go sit outside on the stair.
Who would take all the dinnerware?
There’s not even one that we can all share.
Perhaps it’ll just materialize, though I know not from where.
Until then, I’m undercaffinated with a blank hollow stare