Where will this go?

Who are you and me?
The bees?
The trees?
I am down on my knees.
Begging, please.
I have lost all sight to see.
Two peas,
In a pod that has yet to be free.
Try and reason with the black sea.
The thunder rolling out a middle C.
Ever so faintly you can hear our plea.
Living as detainees,
In a world without a key.
We just want to be,
Anything you need.
Till we can be an escapee.


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