I sit upon the hillside
Wanting
Urging
Needing
For a change
We are a like a colony
Of ants devouring anything
That comes our way we have
Leaders,
Workers,
Invisible,
Ones that we choose not to see,
We think we own this patch
But this hill is among many
But the hills are growing smaller
As we carve nature
For our own gains
And more ants are born
Every
Day
Every
Minute
But when will this
Be a weight that
Crumbles from its needs
And then the ants crushed
Under weight that can not be
Carried,
We are ants and the day is
Coming,
When the strain is to much ,
And we will be like ants
Washed away in the next storm.