Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

The tea tastes bitter when it’s brewed too long,
when tannins bleed; it bears resemblance to
a byway puddle, tinged with twigs and strongly
stained by leaf decay— it’s broken through
the borders of good taste: non-potable.
But no one likes to waste a cup of tea—
and, therefore, we can bless our gullible
humanity and all the sugar we
commingle with the bitterness we drink
and think is sweet— while honey, cream and dream
are mixed to mask our lack of sense. You wink;
I grin— we know we’re never what we seem.
Our tea’s a shame, our party-date’s a sham
between the Queen of Hearts and Uncle Sam.

terrific metaphor joel.....I won't be daring and speculate, it's unnecessary since you are describing a phenomenon, a method, for dealing with any form of bitterness.....but I suspect dropping Uncle Sam's name is significant...good poem

saw got it about spot on from where I sit. A bit of a departure for you into politics...or maybe not. Always a pleasure to see what you've been up to.

never met a 4 i didn't like
awesome job