The Common Ant
It is a good poem.
Amongst the crowd,
Going and coming non-stop,
Stretching its legs and making their sounds loud,
Only every time I hop;
By the faucet,
I found it drinking my own water;
As I filled in the bottle,
I found it floating, dead.
Going and coming non-stop,
Stretching its legs and making their sounds loud,
Only every time I hop;
By the faucet,
I found it drinking my own water;
As I filled in the bottle,
I found it floating, dead.
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