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  • Gabriel Gonzalez

Those Above

To us,

the marching of ants

makes no sound.

To them,

a bustling parade

where each colonist

proudly displays

their sugary-sweet fruits or

nutritious bundles

of green leaves

atop their small

black bodies.

To us,

their existence is confined

to a mere small, dirty hill.

To them,

their world where

they bow in reverence

to their beautiful,



To us,

a rotting apple

swarming with

innumerable pests.

To them,

a beautiful harvest

where not even

the poorest servant

will starve.

To us,

an annoyance.

To them,

their lives.

To us,

our lives.

To Them,

an annoyance.


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