Today my tea tasted so bitter…
Brewed in my Chinese kettle
boiled water poured over
tiny cinnamon sticks and orthodox tea
tiny cinnamon sticks and orthodox tea
from the gardens in the east
Rich fragrant brew
From the same hand picked blend
of green 'two and a bud'
dried n packed in golden foil
Rich fragrant brew
rushed out from the spout
into my favourite mug with blue flowers.
A whiff of my aromatic potion lifted my spirits
just as the smell from the crispy folds of
a morning newspaper
a morning newspaper
from where I sipped news along.
'Perfect way to start my day'..I told myself.
"Starvation Deaths in Tea Gardens"
"Starvation Deaths in Tea Gardens"
I read it over n over
And reached for another sip
and my tea tasted so bitter
salty, as if blended with the sweat of tea laborers
tinted with the sucked blood
from those emaciated bundle of bones.
I pushed my tea cup away
but not memories
in the pictures I had clicked
in the pictures I had clicked
of the lush green bushes
In the stillness of my tea gone cold
I saw reflections
of poorly fed frail figures
plucking two and a bud
in the hot blazing sun,
for creating a fine blend
for a fresh start
to someone's day...
Copyright@Mridual aka writingdoll Please do not reproduce without written consent of the poet.
This poem is in response to this news
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