Like A Coffee Mug

It's cracked but still together,
Glued back and holding strong.
Nothing's seeping, leaking through,
The cracks anymore.
The image is wrinkled,
Crackled, but not beyond
Recognition.
It's only sliced with lines of glue,
That give it more meaning
Than perfection would.
It's ugly.
But in it's ugly imperfection,
It's beautiful.
.
It functions just the same,
It's still one solid, functioning,
Coffee Mug.
It still holds, encases, encloses, fills.
And thought there's glue on the outside,
It all still tastes the same.