• How doth the little bee
    strive so fretlessly
    to build such a saccharine comb?

    And with such ease
    by the end he is pleased
    he has built himself a home

    How doth the little bee
    Fly himself Free
    When he is hardly ever alone?

    And with his wings
    The wind upbrings
    him; and all his own.


    How doth the little bee
    not fly so carelessly
    with such a beautious vision abroad?

    And with all thine seas
    I myself would be pleased
    but the bee, clearly, is not.

    How doth the little bee
    not fly so recklessly
    In a world so dearly distraught?

    And with all the disease,
    terrorists, and enemies
    the bee still follows his plot.


    How doth the little bee
    not cry when he sees
    all the great and horrible sights...

    And with humans, you see,
    they try, hard as he
    to hold back, with all of their might.

    How doth the little bee
    sleep so soundfully
    with all the monsters that lurk in the night?

    And with such ease
    He evades enemies
    With the irony of his bite.


    (And) How doth the little bee
    ever find himself free
    When he is clearly never alone?

    The answer is, he,
    As well as you and me,
    Has discovered a world, all his own.