Insect summer bummer
I don't know what to do now that I have located the bees.
I've mapped their paths and mowed their grass, still I don't have any ideas.
"But the possibilities are endless!" you cry, but nothing's what it seems.
You look, you peer, as if anything's here but it's dark except for my halo, it beams.
The world is yours, the floors, the doors, everything is yours to take.
The laughs, the light, the stars, the night, but your smile is what you chose to fake.
It looks like the bees know of my wander for they say that life looks sad.
Honey dew fresh from the mountain shimmers with that summery gloom.
The first time I saw the bees I thought they were what I always had,
but I never quite understood what they were doing in my room.
My miserable room that I adored, the hot pink drawer where my first love was stored.
The first pocket watch that I ever saw, time ticking backwards, The Book Of The Law.
The book that I daren't read, "Do what thou wilt", but not for me.