Things that are empty include:
half of the glass, my pockets,
this box filled with memories,
the eyes that look back from the mirror
in the dark.

The eyes that look back from the mirror
once dazzled by lights, by promise–
once fixed on the prize at the Midway.
I gave everything I had without knowing
the game was rigged.

I gave everything I had without knowing
if love would last, or be returned,
and whether or not heaven was real.
You keep trying and you keep thinking
“Maybe next time.”

You keep trying and you keep thinking
a little bit harder, a little bit better,
Until that one day comes when you stop.
The glass, the pockets, the memories, the eyes
and the prize.