I’d Like to be a Teabag

I’d like to be a teabag and stay at home all day,
And talk to other teabags in a teabag sort of way.
I’d love to be a teabag and lie in a little box,
And never have to wash my face or change my dirty socks.

I’d like to be a teabag…an Earl Grey one perhaps,
And doze all day and lie around with Earl Grey kind of chaps.
I wouldn’t have to do a thing, no homework, jobs or chores,
Comfy in my caddy of teabags and their snores.

I wouldn’t have to do exams and tidy up art rooms
Or sweep the floor or feed the cat or wash up all the spoons.
I wouldn’t have to do a thing, a life of bliss you see…
Except that once in all my life I’d make a cup of tea!

Now painting is such fun to do, a hobby you might say,
But now they want to dry me out to live another day.
So first I’m slit and emptied out then graded and I’m sized,
They store me in an empty box…I wait to be surprised.

The lid is opened, I’m lifted out, oh what’s my fate to be?
I lie all brown and look forlorn but soon you’ll smile at me.
I’m painted gold and black and white the patterns are quite funny,
They glue me onto bits of card and sell me for some money.

~with apologies to Stephen Dixon, we just took your idea a bit further


*to be explained later…but it has to do with an awesome group I met in South Africa