Antony Ant crawled to the big white door,
The gateway to the human’s habitat.
He had been nominated to scout indoors,
To see where the good food was at.
Nothing could prepare him for this task,
He was unsure what to do.
All he knew was that he had to crawl through a crack,
And hope he wouldn’t end up on the bottom of a shoe.
He crawled through the crack, and looked around
His legs still shaking and trembling.
What great stores would he find,
And how would he find it without dying?
He walked along the wooden floor,
His antenna started twitching.
There was something nearby, on the floor
Its scent was almost bewitching.
He crawled to a corner closest to the door,
And saw a small, strange container.
It contained clear liquid.
Antony tasted it; it was nectar!
This nectar was unlike any he’d ever tasted,
It was sweeter than honey.
As he drank more and more of it,
The nectar warmed his little tummy.
Why on earth would the humans leave this?
This liquid tasted splendid!
How foolish they must be,
To leave such spoil unattended.
He drank more of the heavenly liquid,
And hurried back to his colony.
He let them taste the spoil he found,
They agreed, “It is a wonderful bounty!”
More ants went to the nectar,
And brought it to the colony.
They ate and ate and ate.
It was just so yummy!
The nectars fame grew and grew,
Ants young and old had a taste.
“This is liquid manna,” they said.
“Silly humans always let stuff go to waste!”
When Antony took another sip of nectar,
His tummy felt warmer than ever.
But then his stomach started burning,
“What’s happening?” he began to wonder.
He felt fatigued; his legs grew weak.
His pace became wobbly and slow.
He didn’t understand what was happening to him.
Poor Antony didn’t know.
“Maybe the nectar will help,” he thought.
But the burning did not cease.
Instead, he only felt more ill,
And the burning began to increase!
Then he remembered the thought he had
Upon first finding the nectar as he scavenged alone.
Why would humans leave nectar unattended
When they didn’t want ants in their home?
Dread came upon him as reality set in.
He knew exactly why.
The humans weren’t careless. It was a trick.
They wanted them all to die!
That nectar wasn’t nectar at all.
He rushed to his friends to warn them.
They couldn’t eat any more of that liquid.
That stuff was actually poison!
“Don’t eat it!” he tried to say.
“The nectar is killing us all!”
But before he could get one word out,
He fell and curled up into a ball.
His friends were shocked; the death was so sudden.
They did a quick investigation,
But since the poison killed its victims slowly,
No one made the connection.
That night, Antony’s friends proposed a toast,
To their dearly departed friend.
They raised cups of nectar and said,
“To Antony. May his legacy never end!”
The foragers kept bringing the liquid manna
It was the best food ever!
A few more ants got sick and died,
But they couldn’t put two and two together.
The ants were too busy to ponder or worry.
There was no time for thorough investigating.
Ants died every day, after all.
They had to worry about their own living.
The liquid was brought to the queen.
The queen drank it and was made merry.
“The sweet sticky liquid is delicious,” she said.
“Get more, and do not tarry!”
The poor ants were oblivious
Of what they were putting inside them,
Oblivious to the poisonous borax
That was destroying their digestive system.
The noisy mound was always crowded with ants
But weeks later, the whole mound was still.
Queen and all lay curled up on the ground.
Only skeletons filled the anthill.
Be wary little forager ants
Who break into houses for scraps.
It is better to stay outdoors to forage
Than be killed by humans’ crafty traps.
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