The Tea In Tears

Photo by George Becker on

The spit of life has split us up;
We sipped the shit right out that cup.

Bottoms up and both let down;
Dirt disguised as coffee grounds;
Perhaps the tea cannot be stirred;
The drink instead creates a word.

A letter dropped to form a noun;
In liquid form to screw around;
The “tea” it eats the “f” in fear;
The hollow cup we drank it clear.

Published by notapeepbutlotsofpaper

A silent voice with lots to say. I speak with pens to stay away.

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