Children are more percious than silver or gold, diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, but yet they still continue to be sold, sold to be slaves to another’s heart, that is filled with filthy dirt. There is another dirt below our feet, that when tilled or plowed new seed can be planted, but it begins in one’s heart. A choice to farm, a choice to farm, a choice to farm, a choice to farm, to farm is a choice, where you plant your seed is a choice.
Heart of Hive
Kick the lazy drone out and feed on love,
for the Queen of the hive has laid the eggs,
and many worker bees will swarm with the old Queen,
providing life to the flowers and trees bearing good seed,
for the next season will soon begin as numbers end,
and LOVE for ONE remains,
in the heart of the hive.