You can see right through it
That transparent glass
And it\'s on an otherwise empty table
That\'s big enough for a King\'s banquet
The windows are shut
And grey curtains are drawn
The door is locked and it\'ll remains as such
The hinges are rusted and the key has crumbled
There\'s a layer of dust
Over every surface
But the jar is always polished to a sheen
It\'s cleaned ever day with a brand new cloth
The lid is on tight
And its vacuumed sealed
There\'s seven shallow indents carved right in
Although you might not even see them with the lack of light
It\'s not as heavy as you\'d think
There\'s barely anything to it
If you didn\'t know better you\'d say it was empty
Yet try to lift it and your shoulder will scream in agony
The handle is rectangular
With a small gap for a finger
It\'s stiff though and tough to pull open
It takes gritted teeth and steadfast determination
When you take the lid off the jar
And let the perfection leak out
You\'re just left with an empty jar