Spill your beans Honey bee-
my asymmetrical butterfly.
Hidden behind anxiety pills,
is our voice-
carrying our screams. We
aren’t clergy but measly
church mice-
Speak Honey bee but,
let it be worthy circumstance,
that guides your tongue.
It’s our moment in the Sun;
I know you feel the heat.
Fret not though-
our embryonic cages
came without instructions.
Life then, becomes a grudging
companion to experience-
something you carry in abundance.
Scream Honey bee and try not,
to be gentle-
may your Odyssey be written,
in common tongue.
To be read by everyone.
A heathen poet 