If I wished for company
In the hot tub it was certainly not
In the form of a bee,
Flapping furiously in an effort to rise.
I remembered his brother,
Might have been his twin,
Same size, body structure,
And unfriendly attitude.
That nasty son-of-a-bitch
Decided to take his anger,
At the current state of Bee affairs,
Out on me.
What had I done to him?
OK, I did spray the nest.
But, that was years before,
When that punk stung me.
Now I watch his brother,
Exhausting himself in a futile effort
To get out of the hot water
So that he could continue his pointless, miserable, life.
I’m sure the Queen would not miss
This one little misguided wretch.
Any Bee stupid enough to get trapped in a hot tub
Can’t be a very efficient.
I could easily splash the Bee
Out of the water, but what would I earn:
His undying gratitude, in the form of sting?
Nope, I did it in the hope the fool might bring me honey.
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