Friday, November 11, 2011

Marching of the Ants

I’ve watched the daily march of the ants
From nest to honey pot
Tasks before them
Trudging onward
Jostling each other for position as they move along well-worn trails
Circadian rhythms feel imperfect when compared to the daily motion of these ants
Their lives bottled up, lived, and consumed in symmetrically rigid steel mounds
Each carving out a space
Each carving out a function
Thirsting for a saccharine sweet reward
But the honey earned tastes bitter in the mouths of the discontent

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