Before the Glass Tips Over

You look at me. I look at you. You look at your feet. I look at.. it. What is it? It is everything but also nothing. What is your perception? It's a glass that was once half full now victim to the rage of uncertainty. It's a caricature of something that was once so fulfilling and now... It's half empty. Where do we go from here? What does this mean? You look at me. I look at you. The rage begins to cascade over the surface like a thousand hurricanes. Honey.. please catch the glass before it tips over.

Guide that inspired this poem: