Learning To Bee Yourself

They’re coming at seven

And this place is a mess.

There are larvae all over the walls.

We’ve not enough pollen

To feed all our guests,

And the queen is asking for my balls.
The workers are striking.

The drones are conversing.

The soldiers are sewing on stripes.

I’ve just about had it

With this dinner party

And all of my coworkers’ gripes.
Thus said the hornet

Who dared to be different.

‘Twas his nature. He didn’t know why.

Later that day

After leaving the nest

He learned that he’d been born a fly.

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2 Comments

Filed under Poems

2 responses to “Learning To Bee Yourself

  1. OMG…I hate poetry. But I LOVE yours. Why is that? No idea, but I love your writing.

    Like

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