Now, I know you like your tea.
And I know you like it hot.
But if you ask me
Well, I just like you a lot.
I might not be made of ginger
And I do not taste like peach
But just one taste and I’m sure
You’ll be sad when I’m out of reach
I do not come in flavors
Not white, green, black, or oolong
But when I see your face again
I’ll say “Baby, its been too long.”
So I know I can’t compare
But I’m trying hard you see
These words, they might be rare
But I want to be your cup of tea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem