It's wrong to have these creatures dead.
Then his reply- which had me freeze-
Was well, then you stop killing bees.
Of the Poem (Fourth Grade History):
What an unruly creature of destruction I was as a child. I remember- as clear as if it were yesterday- a time when I was a little boy in the fourth grade playing outside during recess. I tore a switch off of a tree and used it to smack the heads off of dandelions. This bored me, so I turned my weapon against some flying insects (dragonflies and bees, mostly).
A friend suddenly showed up and joined me in the onslaught. I noticed very quickly that he was targeting butterflies, and rebuked him for it. Without missing a beat he said: "Well, you're killing bees." My heart sank because at that very moment I realized I was actually harming something. Remorseful still, I haven't targeted a bee since.
Anyhow, hence the above quatrain.