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The Big End
Crawling in my house
Every sunny day
They are as quiet as a mouse
As they crawl down the bay
They walk in a straight line
Just like an enormous train
It contains ants more than nine
But this train has a big brain
Carrying food on their back
All kind of glorious food
To carry them they don't need sacks
They eat food bad and good
They walk barefoot on sand
And turn if there is a bend
Then I squished them with my hand
And that is their big end.
poem
by
Risha Ahmed
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