He’s there

Seen by those who pass
Except, Never
In actual fact

Found

Pleased—
His mind stores the past
With a pile of neglected old school books

He doesn’t know
Where he is
Nor, Does
He heed

For there’s no more studying, to be done

Where there’s flowers
There’s bees

Despite the stingers
They have honey to be tasted

Those flowers, will always bring bees
Yet, they are the only thing to cleave to