Busy Bees

I live by the highway
Just a hop away
I hear the many cars
All day long, I do
Buzzing on their way
With people in them
On their own paths
To something to do
Or a place to be at
And I realized today
These cars are like bees
From many hives
Busily buzzing around
Heading to work
Going to their schools
Or for the lucky ones
Merely going home
They all go out
Sometimes briefly
Or for a long while
Seeking something
Finding their pollen
And occasionally visiting
Another group of bees
Sometimes, a sting
Many little stings
Crashes and bumps
Road raged rednecks
Or tired mothers
Sometimes stinging
Killed by others
Who became obstacles
Sometimes they dance
Whirling about the air
Driving in circles
Showing off for friends
Communicating
In an odd bee way
They all go out
From their many hives
To do something
And they mostly return
Tired, worldweary
Just a bit less gas
In their dwindling tank
They all go home
To raise young
Or maybe to work
But I find my self
Thinking a thought
A question of sorts
"Who is their queen?
Do they have autonomy?"
I could never know
Nor could they
If you asked one
I know the reply
They would say
"Of course I know!
I am my own being
I make choices and act
And I make my path"
But this is obvious
I know these thoughts
Disillusionment
A warped mind
A confused bee
This I what I think
Or more appropriately
What I sort of know
They all have one
A queen of their own
They may not see
But what do you expect
From the busy bees?