In lines they move
Soldier, worker each doing his work
We marvel at their handiwork
But are they hard working?
They can do nothing else with their time

I envy the ants
There is no shadow over their future
No doubts in their chosen profession
For really, they are born into it
Born to be workers,
Born to be kings
What else could workers do but work?

I envy the ants
They have no fear of death
No fear of not fulfilling their part
No regret of loss or disappointment
They take everything in their stride
They are born to do their jobs no doubt

I envy the ants
They wake without doubt
They work without hopelessness
Live for only one reason
Have no fear of inadequacy
But imagine how boring their lives will be
If life can spring no surprise
Making us sorry workaholics with no reason to bend

Like this.

i love these poem. i will like connect to the poet of these lovely poem. you are wonderfully good. wanna learn from you

thanks yal