The honeybee lands onto the small flower,
A friendship blooming immediately.
The bee talks of pollen and how wonderful it is,
But the flower is silent.
The flower is afraid that it will be used time and time again,
Endlessly dying in a fantasy that we call love.
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 7:34 AM UTC
The honeybee lands onto the small flower,
A friendship blooming immediately.
The bee talks of pollen and how wonderful it is,
But the flower is silent.
The flower is afraid that it will be used time and time again,
Endlessly dying in a fantasy that we call love.
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