Swing your tea.

Put humanity to boil
everyone swings their tea
bag the sun let’s do this
by candlelight witness
melting faces of your fathers
we’ll go play in puddles
sodden shoes and
fire places
third degree
burns the hair a rancid
smell the roses dying
dead the garden rots
away with all the pity
run to knowing mother
why are we forgotten?
in the halls of his story
never learnt a thing
so precious when you stow it
hidden from the madness
eats the mind of those who
swing their tea so
freely

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