A miniscule being,

With an excruciating punch.

A demonstration,

That the smallest,

Are not the weakest.

 

What brought the lion down?

A tiny thistle.

Buried in the king’s paw,

Caused so much pain,

and only an inch tall.

 

A small buzzy bee,

Looks as harmless as can be.

When it sights danger,

It rears its behind in protest,

And strikes in defence.

 

Haven’t posted for a few days because I’ve been away from my blog for easter. There’s a reason why I’m posting this poem, it’s because I was stung by a bloody bee today. This poem was written because of that bee, which caused my hand to swell up like a balloon. Mum insisted on taking me to the doctor, (I didn’t think it was necessary) we were there for 2 hours until we left. I left with some anti-inflammation pills and a sling, (which I can’t be bothered wearing.) So that’s my rant for the month, hope you enjoyed my poem.

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