You're clean. You're transparent, finely made with no flaws.
Or so I thought.
You're glass, and you're delicate. One push and you will break.
That is your weakness, that is your flaw.
Your inconsistency is what makes me wonder about you, see you, think of you.
You're supposed to be transparent but yet you're smudged.
I can't see through you so maybe that's a clue.
You want be cleaned and seen anew.
You're a glass cup.
Ready to be filled.
Filled with new wonders and thoughts, new places and ideas.
You're not simply made to be seen through but made to be shaped by what is around you.
You're a glass cup, and I don't just see you.
Author Two cent: This one Rubee asked for as a topic (you know who you are)