The buzz of annoyance,
Yet the sweetness of nectar;
Affection so bitter
Others say to escape
When in the presence of a Wasp.
I do not listen.
They’ve never hurt me before
I have no doubt
I do not get stung
As long as I don’t provoke the bug
It flies innocently about
Unaware of me.
In spite of this gospel
The cruel irony is,
I wish, for once, I’d get stung