Maniacal, enraged
Satan of the sky
Hysterically cackling
On it's turbulent flight
The black and yellow fellow
The diabolical beast
Painfully pounces
On to my arm for a feast
And with a psychotic smile
It lowers its hind
Injecting a toxic needle
Enough to make me cry
As I frantically scream
Amidst the tragedy
I ask the little bastard
'Why can't you be like your friend, the bee?'
'They soar majestically
Remain calm when they fly
And when they do decide to sting
Well, at least they die!'
But still, the evil one sits there
Unscathed on my arm
With no aim in life
Other than to cause harm.
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