The ant farmer and the ant, buddies...
Yet funny the former takes on the name of the latter, the lesser, the pet.
Funnier still how I, an ant can, by sheer benevolent sarcasm,
Be permitted to do some farming, fellow ants farmed,
Led perhaps by nice scents secretly imbued by the kindly old ant farmer.
Sometimes I farm unaware but the odors wear off
(In my mind, at least), and if I farm then
Maybe I still reap, knowing that in secret
The nice scents are the ant farmer's
Not mine.
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