You’re like a colony of ants,
You disperse all over the levelled grey tiles,
And dumbly pry about in meadows of green grass.
You cluster around my feet once I’ve paced onto the chilly surface of the tiles,
And tickle me annoyingly when I’m barefoot on the turf grass.
At first you don’t look as though you would bite,
Like other creepy-crawly bugs.
You appear itty-bitty,
And undisputedly friendly.
So innocent enough to trust,
Comfortably rest on the ground,
And contentedly loosen up.
But then came your colony,
A swarm of ants each with their own secret weapon.
You bothered me with your insulting remarks,
Bruising my heart with every strike from your spiteful tongue.
Using me for your individual gain,
And shoving me away once you were done for the day.
Your jealousy had turned me into your war zone,
Where you’d fire bullets recklessly.
You came as a disguised friend,
And bit by bit,
You unveiled to me everything that sailed under false colours.
The colony of ants,
Crawling onto me irritably,
I’m wailing helplessly,
Unable to achieve victory,
Because whenever I push you away,
Stomp on the flock of ants,
They never die,
And you never leave me alone.
Now I’m shrieking,
For all of eternity,
Because I have ants,
Trapped in my pants.