I Like Poems

All they know is only what they see,
to them what is a reality,
they see the happy bee,
but don't understand the loss of vitality,

It's not obvious what the bee is hiding and it never will,
but if you picked up on the scent,
such clear brutality could have never been

So let it go and accept what never was,
for now, it is clear that it stares you in the face.