tea sippers

holding so tightly with two fingers

a cup of blend of all that lingers

sipping out of a cup so delicate

never forgets the smallest etiquette

your face collected as by a mime

black coffee hiding the bottom grime

my cup is nowhere to be found

if only I could seep into the ground

a plain saucer will have to do

even though it can't hold but a few

tears of the finest tea

brewed within the secret sea

I'm balancing trying not to spill

busy keeping up with constant refill

they're shaking their heads at me

shaming for being an amputee

please, we don't need your mess

handle this with a touch of finesse

I look down at my shallow flooded plate

there's just now way for this to equate

if you think it's so easy to envelop

then why don't you try without a cup?

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