An ant with a hunger so grand,
Ate everything in his path, no land unscanned,
From crumbs to leaves,
He consumed everything he believed,
Until he grew fat, and could no longer stand.
About the Creator
R.Freya
Poetry is my soul's language, and I wield words like a paintbrush. From heartbreak to hope, I capture emotions and spin them into verse.
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Second Tuesday of November
No one knew how the event really started. Between a few beverages at the bar, maybe? Notes passed carefully on the street? Or, perhaps a secret meetup at early hours of the day? Whatever the root source was, we were here now on the second Tuesday of November. Nervous, but also absorbed by the allure.
By Elizabeth Petit3 days ago in Fiction
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