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:: Bee-ing - TB
Will this matter a year from now?
For now I am a honey bee
Hunted by hornets.
They try to murder my dreams
And deliver homilies of their own.
How doth the little busy bee
Continue living from hour to hour?
How long will she be free
To gather honey from every little flower?
Flowers are not as sweet as they once were
And seeds fall on hard ground.
:: Bee-gone - KC
I conjure these men
somehow,
men who can't do feelings.
Repeat old mistakes:
love them more than I should,
love them more than they deserve.
A discombobulated soul
I go into the world,
take the wrong turns.
They mute their hearts
so there is nothing I can use,
no North.
This is how they spell
begone.
N.B.:
- TB writes Under the Toadstool.
- These poems are shared with The Real Toads.
- Kensi 'n' Tom EP original photos and artwork by TB.
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