The Little Ant

         The Little Ant

The little ant the little star      

Marching with its colony

Under the shady thick trees

 Pick and shovel runnings

Some have shining rolling drops  

Some have  grains like golden beads

Moving up and down in anthill

In blooming and fruiting trees

Marching with its colony

 Woodcutters nearby trees,

Dawn to dusk cutting the large trees

All ants smelt danger in the wind

Anxious ants on leaf and twigs

They leveled abiding ant hills

They crushed many with a booted foot.

In the colony, many cracked and dead.

Tilted, jerked slowly crawling ones

Also carrying dead ones on their back

The little ant bears the pain

twists and turns and whimpers

With bleeding tree leaves

Scattered eggs and brood nest

Crushed land to a graveyard

Little ant’s revenge begins

It bites on the cruel man's leg

With burning formic acid drops

But brute took the tiny creature

Crush and throws into a bush

Anthill colony entirely flawed

Darkness masked the burial ground

  Trucks move with logs.

 Little ant the little star     

Will regenerate could  do revenge

With more toxin and powerful wings

Never down to any body’s foot.