Ants
Father,
We are all ants
in front of your might.
Father,
We are all small and weak
eclipsed by your honor.
Father,
We are all but nothing
servants of your legacy.
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.