Poverty (ant poem)

Lying awake
on a worn mattress with yellowed sheets
How could the world end like this?
A baby crying.
Why is he crying?
ants
ants biting, gnawing
the baby will be dead soon
all that will be left is the ants
they don’t have to live like this
in a beaten trailer
there in the ground
like a grave
maybe that’s where it will be better
the ants come
I pray to them
take me to the ground
to the better place
maybe they will come soon
and all that will be left
is the ants
the wonderful ants