Poetry's Tale to Tell

Busy Bee

I'm a busy bee,

With no time to flee.

My reality is twenty-four/seven,

My dreams don't get spared a second. . .

There's no time for writer's block,

Everything must be done now

Or time will throw it in a sock.

The second I have to spare,

Is something so rare.

What do I do?

I don't even know how to relax.

Only know how to go to school,

And wear my mask.

They're all so nice,

But the work they give is like holding ice.

Not something you'd like to do,

Yet they shove it in your hands,

And all you can do is watch and stare.

You're shivers increase,

But it never melts,

Only grows colder as time goes on.

I'm a busy bee,

Ready to flee.

But time isn't on my side.

My breaks I hold onto,

Not wanting to let go.

I wait and wait,

Until I give in and hold that ice once more.

I'm a busy bee,

But I'm not alone.

I'm no Queen Bee,

With millions to command,

Nor would I like to be.

Just a busy bee,

With some friends by her side.

Other busy bees help me,

We work together,

We get it all done.

We're all busy bees,

So why not stick together?

We're no birds of a feather,

Who flock together.

But busy bees,

In search of some sweet honey.