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Becca 5d
I feel like I need to spill my feelings
into some other coffee.
tea is like a candle on the table
and the table is like an oak hut

fireflies flash around me
outside the ice flying in the wings

Hope One Day Nov 27
Come over for a hand made cup of tea,

The froth of tea will burn all the painful words and the negativity

First sip might taste bitter (truth) but then it should melt like honey

Eventually we'll dunk all our worries so we can just be you and me

In order for us to enjoy the life's fine delicacies
Men and women are like a a tea bag, unless they are put in to a hot water (difficult situations) they'll never know how strong they are.
People should resolve their issue before its too late for them to rectify their mistakes.
Lily Nov 24
Looking down and losing myself among the freshly brewed tea
Steaming hot and ready to drink
Although I know I’ll get burned
I take a sip
Thinking it won’t hurt
Retreating my lips from the cup
Exasperated, I yelp out in agony
I feel as if this is how my love is hence relinquished
I know my day has just begun
The sun ablaze is pouring light
And those awake are seen to run
The birds have taken to the sky
But listless on my bed I wait
To sip the tea here served to me
Soon I shall be up and sound
To fling a stone across the green
To test my mighty arm and sight
And rule this world so dear to me
ZenOfferings Nov 12
The steam yields as so
I slurp and gurgle my tea
Oh, jasmine blossom!
cupid Nov 12
my favorite flavor is cinnamon
something sweet that burns at the same time
my throat hurts so much
my coughing is so violent it makes me gag
and i choose black cinnamon tea
i choose burning hot caffeine
an auburn elixir with honey
a faint sweet taste on my singed lips
the heated mug in my hands
is an unknown sensation to my ice filled veins
my fragile and frosted body reacts as if molten steel was forced down my throat
but it’s only robust, dry cinnamon mixed with honey
it’s only a warm drink to soothe my throat
it’s my favorite
!!!!i have allergies!!!!
i keep coughing so hard
it makes me heave
Jenny Gordon Nov 11
Yes, snow.  Mebbe take my face in your hands and shake me?


It's...snowing.  Hug yourself within the pale
Eye of these ***** hours whose ghastly sense
Of Winter sits triumphant oer pretense,
As tiny flakes 'non filter down t'avail
The soul of that keen silence--cherished bail
We relished in forgotten days like thence
Twas fit to sanctify us, wandring hence
To finger cotton-candy whiteness' tale.
Don't ask me why my heart sank in a poor
'Scuse when my owly eyes first caught the view.
Nor if I loved morn's cuppa like twas fer
My soul's recure, Assam just what we knew
It should be if you taste it, no.  We were
Too fond of lies, I think, was't?  I miss YOU.

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