I prepared to battle this day at noon
The teabag and me, in my hand a spoon
And the kettle was boiled, the steam escaped
And into the cup the teabag was placed
The scalding began, and quickly followed
By the spoon, prodded in all bags hollows
The teabag objected to harsh harassment
As it twirled and whirled then was squashed and bent
Extracting the flavour, I poked it some more
while teabag was plotting to even the score
It floated up top and without respect
All the leaves that it carried it did eject
Now the brew was spoilt, I lowered my head
And reached for the coffee jar instead.