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deannaart
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Question

The ants were marching

Back to their hill

Triumphantly carrying

Their latest kill

Suddenly a stick fell

And broke their line

Blocking one ant

He was left behind

The others kept marching

Never breaking their pace

While confusion and terror

Crossed his face

He was now lost

Not knowing what to do

Desperately hoping

Another would come through

But none came

He was left on his own

This once included ant

Was now to be alone

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