Once upon a time,
A bee and a rose
Were really good friends
They were always very close.
The rose was a beauty
Nectar trickled within her maze
Her stem was smooth as butter,
Her heart so full of grace.
One day the bee,
Came out of his hive
His heart as fast and loud,
As his wings in flight.
They met at their usual spot
It was any other day
But the confession on the line
Would soon part their ways.
“I love you,” he said.
Those words forever captive in time.
There was no escape,
It had etched itself in their lives.
Oh, the rose, the poor rose
Too young and naive was she
To comprehend the words she’d heard
It was not her place to be.
They did not meet for a few days,
*Only greeted with small waves or *****
Soon they never met at all,
Things had gone too flat.
“I should just speak to him,
We’re still friends after all,” you know
But though they spoke and laughed a lot,
They were not quite like before.
And then came that fine day,
This could not go on like this.
It was up to the rose to do something
And clear up all this mess.
“Maybe if he hates me,
He wouldn’t hurt so much
As not being loved the same way back.
This would be the final touch.”
Out from her bosoms and sprouts
Came cruel words of painful sound.
Her softness disappeared with her words,
And gave growth to thorns around.
Her maze of sweetness no longer gleamed
Because no nectar remained,
*It had all been ****** by her cruel words*
To form and fuel hate.
Oh, the bee, the poor bee,
How much more could he take?
His darling love he had fallen for
Now poked his heart with hate.
His teardrops only made
His Rose’s needles grow
It was time to go away
He could bear it no more.
Time passed, and even the bee grew a thorn.
A tiny one, not so seen
But, it had in it an aching remnant
Of a rotten love that could have been.
Ages passed, seasons changed,
Distance between them grew.
They were no longer how they used to be,
Look, the sun has fallen too.