That's what they are.
They go all out to collect roses.
They go to the best gardens in the world.
They collect, eat, or make honey.
According to them,
Not every flower is worth keeping.
Some flowers are not sweet.
They taste and leave.
But the journey is long.
It is not about the sweetness of the flower.
Sometimes the lifestyle counts.
The flowers have a life of their own.
Before the bees approach them.
Men are like bees.
It's about humanity.
What they do is search.
From the garden of God.
Whoever they find,
They peak.
It might be a flower or a rose.
To be picked.
Who knows?
The future of a picked flower.
Because bees eat flowers and make honey.
It is the cycle of their lives.
Our lives as human beings.
About the Creator
Gloria Penelope
Every creative piece is just me telling a story. Enjoy my creative writing!
Keep reading
More stories from Gloria Penelope and writers in Poets and other communities.
Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis4 days ago in Humans
Comments (1)
Great words