Guilty

Happy as a bee, Running wild And running free. To me, everything comes so easily. Happy as a fly, Never realising, never wondering why Whilst high up in the sky This fly could also die. Alone? Sad? Fearful? Happy? Warm? Tearful? Bouncy? Bubbling? Cold? Pain? Tears? Old? Never, I will never know, Not until it’s my turn, Why am I here When you are all alone?