These Ants.

These ants, they swarm without a care

for my peace or breathing air.

I feel them in my hair somewhere.

A crime against the unaware.

They lack regard for personal space,

intruding where they have no place,

enormity against man’s race,

dear ants, get out of my face.

What can I do to purge this pest?

It fights quite unlike the rest.

The horde sits on fury’s crest,

a tragedy, if truth’s confessed.

The skies above care naught for me,

these ants, they come and dine for free.

No charge for rent, they pay no fee,

Oh, woe is me! These ants won’t flee.

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