The Honeybee
the other side of the truth
Among the all beautiful flowers, In the garden of dream land, A wildflower... raw one, Was hiding in the shades of green. It was me... all alone. Bees were flying by, Stinky and clever eye, Glistering with dirty greed. Scared, buried myself, Inside the shell of long sharp thorns, Forbidding them to get cozier. A sudden wave of fresh air, Passed through me. Confused... I opened up petals. You flew by me, Made me experience...
