Friday, April 1

I was a bee
Once
Careless and free.
I Sipped love
Little by little
Swarming around trees.
I was a bee
Among
The multitude of blooms.
I Lived oblivious
In the hive
Cozy to breathe.
It was the fable
In anguish
I weaved
Insolently whenever they felt me
In places
I could not speak.
Oh! I was never a bee
Only a scarred chick
Mourning
In silence
For broken wings
And tattered dreams.

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