I seem to live in a place where before your tea can cool,
It turns into an ants` paradise, a swimming pool.
And it seems the since eating ants isnt heard of,
The best you can do is throw it and make a new cup.
But wait, what is this it must be a dream,
for the water i poured sizzled like steam.
And when I tasted it, it wasnt good at all
It all came out and burnt my mouth.
Nonsense, rubbish, i should have stuck to being cold,
For now making tea, will turn me old.
I have finished my bread,
and read all there was to be read.
I look for the ants no where to be seen,
then i remember i set the ant infested cup right where the new one leans.
I grab it quickly, but it is too late,
I have become a victim of a tea and ants troll-gate.