A Conversation With Mr. Tea (A Burlesque) Poem by Arnav Penrhythm

I accosted, unexpected for ears
To have a tea speak to hear
But well verily, happened it so
When and where? E’en I didn’t know

“Hello Mr. Tea, I speak to thee,
If thou will tell me about now,
Of about, thy suffering by me
If any, and also how? ”

“Curse you. O’curse you man
You boil my brother leaf in water
Till hot it becomes red some ten
And then he drowns in splitter-splatter”

These were first, what spoke Mr. Tea
In utmost adversity, not in gay
His eyes, full of red, intact me
And so did he continue anyway

“And then ye, spill o’er some milk
Some sugar to refine, add up to taste
Then, my melted brother, falling like silk
Comes o’er my arms, like hoary waste

You men, nothing are but murderers
Of sons of thousand, maybe more
Of millions, some scores brothers
And being devil, upon I do swore

Thy morning, freshens up by me
Evening loads, I do relieve, free
Without e’en in exchange, from thee
For kindness expect from you are we

But to no avail, still the sips
With generosity, and of simplicity
E’en when burnt, often we thy lips
When hot but alas! We flow down thee

Think of, O’do just for a one
Leave rest behind, for time some
If left are we, for thy are none
What of you, devil-man, is to become?
Dare you again, if take me in
After such a long dialogue
Dare you do still, this sin
Loyal be thee I think, for men a dog

And if you…” (Gulp Gulp)
Enough at last bear can’t this more
Took it in, in mine, (Gulp Gulp Gulp)
“Curse ye, Mr. Tea! For thy tale is so heartily bore”

Swear I won’t try e’er to talk
To things which are made to not
For they do speak, like women, a lot
And before accosting them, I’ll give a second thought….