A young bee, meant to be,
A symbol of peace and harmony,
Stings the innocent oldman,
The Queen expells her,
Out of her holy presence,
Her nose leads her away,
From the fragrant flowers,
She roams about as an outcast,
And loves to kiss and hug,
Dung, shit, and human feces,
He never provoked her,
She is my just Queen.
Mykoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem