Though I don’t know why the feeling’s so strong
Words are galloping through my head
Telling me carefully I should tread:
‘This is not a safe place’There’s something wrong you can’t see on its face.
Apparently, they don’t serve tea.
And I think we all can agree
That not serving tea is a mark of shame
And this tea shop is totally lame.
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This one requires a little bit of a disclaimer... I wrote this piece right after I'd finished the tea (Earl Grey, hot) I'd brought to school and was suffering a titchy bit of withdrawal. The prompt was "This is not a safe place"... and henceforth this poem was born:
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