For not one wasp will a flower ruin
Because he guards it with a sting
Locked inside a withered garden
Longing for birds and bees
Smash the flower for the wasp?
An unusually cruel thing.
Without the wasp, the flower sprouts
Yet a damaged stem means suffering
And all the flower hopes to see
The hummingbirds, the bees
Pass on by for greener gardens
The flower is left wilting
It browns and bends, a final weep
“Oh sun, please save me, please!”
The birds and bees still flutter by
“Curse the wasp, he poisoned me.”
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