The Last Bee

The farmers gathered-in,
Their ploughed-up pleads:
On the basis that
It’s you whom they feed:

UK defies,
Now sows “neonics”:
Hurrah for the UK,
Up the Great Brits!

We have the seed power,
To put bees to their death,
Send in the pesticides,
Until no queens are left.

Now privatise lost pastures,
Builders plough fields,
Profit for Landowners,
In for the kill.

When Britain’s poisoned
All Apis mellifera,
Not one buzz,
In your local area,

Embrace then,
The immigrant bees,
We will need their hard work,
To sow last hopes of reprise.

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