A Poem Concieved While Choking On Tea

As the title explicitly states, I conceived this poem while choking on tea. I felt it worthy of being posted not for its content or structure, both somewhat commonplace, but rather for the thrilling fact that this is the manner in which I confronted the notion of death by tea. Though it is impossible for me to die from that particular incorrect ingestion of the beloved drink, I find it sensational how terribly dramatic this rhyme is considering the circumstances

Death by Tea
I have dreamed of wasted talent.
I have dreamed of foreign shores.
I have dreamed of all this planet.
Now I find, I'll dream no more.

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