The water tugs at his heels, slowing him.
But his lonely death is already assured,
To his kind separation is death.
An adventurer or a loner, lost and forgotten,
Sacrificed to the nests constant need for nourishment.
No poems will be written to his passing,
No statues erected in his memory.
For in a society that cares only about the survival of the whole,
The death of one means nothing.
I wrote this poem after finding an ant struggling to get out of a basin with the water droplets slowing it. I helped it out, at the same time realising the futility of doing so, because apparently once separated from the scent trails made by others in their nest, ants are sure to die. It seemed callous that this was fine as long as the hive survived.
Then I wondered, are our societies the same in regards to our opinions relating to war or social justice issues like homelessness, health care, drug addiction, and economic competition?