The Chipped Teacup

There once was a teacup, proper and proud,
Who laughed with the saucers and chatted out loud.

She twirled on the table with sugar and cream,
Quite certain that life was as sweet as a dream.

But one busy morning—a terrible clink!—
She found herself perched on the very edge… blink!

A wobble, a tumble, a bounce, then a stop…
And there was a chip on her delicate top.

“Oh dear!” cried the teaspoons. “How terribly sad!”
The saucers all whispered, “What dreadful luck she’s had.”

The teapot just huffed with a puff of hot steam,
While the kettle let out a high whistling scream.

The teacup grew quiet. “Well, this is the end.
No one wants a cup they can no longer mend.

I’ll sit on this shelf till I’m dusty and gray,
While prettier teacups are carried away.”

The sugar bowl chuckled. “You’re making a fuss!”
The cream pitcher smiled, “You’re still one of us!”

But the teacup just sighed with a sorrowful plea,
“No one will ever be reaching for me.”

The cupboard swung open.
The morning was here.
Each teacup stood straighter
As footsteps drew near.

The polished cups sparkled.
The finest shone bright.
Each hoped to be chosen
At first morning light.

The others scratched their noggings and wondered, “Why not me?”
He simply smiled and poured the tea.