Ants
by joetwo
I look often at ants on the ground
How dreadfully busy they are.
So filled with purpose is there every move.
Yet in all their meandering
They cannot see me that is above them
Blind they are to the world and all its glory.
I look often at ants on the ground
How dreadfully busy they are.
So filled with purpose is there every move.
Yet in all their meandering
They cannot see me that is above them
Blind they are to the world and all its glory.