Sunday 16 August 2015

Justice

"Justice," said the bee
Clutching her sceptre
"I have no use for love"

No more work
No deliveries
Of young

No collections
For the store

Until Justice prevails
As a balm for this unholy
Pain

A voice said,
"You have to let go"

"Justice," said the bee
From her gilded throne

And the hive collapsed

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