The Flower and the Bee (A poem I wrote)

 The Flower and The Bee

I was the flower, and you were the bee,

Drawn to my nectar, you feed upon me.

With your eager tongue, you traced every part,

Draining the sweetness I gave from the start.

My petals, my pistils, my trembling stem,

Ached for your touch again and again.

You danced upon me with six eager feet, 

Taking nectar and pollen, I surrendered defeat.

Then into your baskets you tucked them away,

Leaving me empty at the close of the day.

When I saw the next bloom that you had sought,

I knew t'was my essence that flower had caught.

 Her colours were faded, her form less refined,

Yet you lavished upon her what once had been mine.

You left me to wither by the fading of light,

A beauty unseen, robbed before night.

Beware the hum of a love untrue,

That drinks you dry then bids you adieu.

For some only hunger, never adore,

Using consuming-then seeking more.

Farwell to the love that never was true,

Nothing but echoes in petals of dew.

I remember your touch before you did flee,

And the pain that followed, the sting of the bee.