Like Ill-Mannered Belligerent Bees

We militarize our boredom, And ironize our tears This has been done from infancy, Till we've forgotten- For just, how many years. A father or a mother worked Toiled their fingers to the bone Just so they could provide you, Some sort of a stable home. We cry out all our needs Like ill-mannered belligerent bees Descending on any honey, Put aside—leftover money, Warmongering if, there isn't any. "It's the way of the world We find we're all expendable At times utterly inexcusable; That even love, love is unattainable".