Bumble bee

Think of it what you will

A bumble bed lies flat on its back ;
sun-scorched it's legs writhe in the pain lain before it.
It screams out of help ;someone to pick it up .
Lift it with a leaf and place it on the wall above the road,
a shield from the barrage of wind and sun,
on a high shelf looking above with all eyes down.

The bee lies still in the road , byepassers take a large step around it ,
the Good Samaritan is long gone-
it's death along with Jesus and the Shogun-
the bee is on its back , forced into submission by external forces-
God is not here to save it, neither is his creation .
I pick up the bee, but hail falls down.
It is doomed.

Reviews

[Gee]

Oh I hate bees, wasps , hornets, spiders, anything creepy freely or stingy..
Like the poem though