A warning

When the air has cooled the surface of your tea
And its
temperature has adequately dropped
Only then do you sit up
from fitful sleep
To slake the thirst that only tea can
stop

As you raise the golden contents to your
lips
And wipe the gooey mess out of your eyes
You
take the first of many grateful sips
And let out just as many
constant sighs

Now probably if you just left things
there
Life would very possibly be fine
But you're
eying up those biscuits with a stare
Even though you know
what happens everytime

How easily, how soon the
mind forgets
As you dunk the dreaded biscuit, free from
doubt
You're quite comfortable when half of it's
submerged
But quite depressed when only half comes
out

Your leisurely activity has turned
Into
a tale of panic riddled woe
As desperate, fumbling fingers
full of hope
now grope the mashed up mess that lurks
below

But Sod is Sod and Sod's Law is Sod's
Law
It's a lesson that should rapidly be learnt
'Cos
if you play in Sod's Playground you'll find

Your
fingers will get very badly burnt