Blue Flower

Flitting from bloom to bloom,

a nimble bumblebee.

Where've you been?

Busy chasing after girls on the beach,

I wonder if any of them might miss

those fleeting feelings you left in their hearts

not something worth pursuing, not at all.

Everything’s just calculated and fading away.

Returning to the primordial source,

his mother, of course.

To dwell on the past, the old and stale,

to recall he's part of their fold,

favoured and valued, it's true.

But what of the world at large, too?

Do they know the same things about him?

Forget him.

He's like an old, overplayed record.

Stuck on repeat with one song,

playing endlessly

until it finally slips from the needle, gone.

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Thank you for reading!