The day, overcast, grey and gloomy,
The bee, its wing is broken, and it crawls,
To be torn from the sky,
do we have no mercy?
The bee is vulnerable, and doomed,
I spot a crowd, about to walk by,
I continue to walk, staring back in sadness,
and watch the feet fall.
for the bee is surely to fail.
I continue to walk,
my mind awry,
To see the mortality and
insignificance,
I start to think.
How Not I?
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