I go to do,
to act an act.

Until my mind is excited,
and I detour,
for the sweets I find on my way.

I taste each until satiation
spills over me the syrup.
Sweets know not the distinction
of the eater or container.

Mom will know. I must wash it!
I haste and dilute my syrup.
Ants will know it anyway!

Again, the same place lures me
I must exercise control!
for anger I fear. 
I don’t have a choice.
Again, the sweet consumes me!

Mom will know. I’m afraid!?
I’ll lie to Ants. Hush!

Detour from detour I exercise,
arduously to avoid my love.
This earth has too many stones!
- all here beneath my feet!!

What incites in me hate,
is extended to my love.
Neither the medium nor source
I understand.
I don’t love it anymore!

Mom is proud. I not am.
I can’t find ants.

My mouth is salty
in these dry lanes day after day.
I do not resist my urge to not be me.
Only tour where I am sweet,
what choice possess do I?

Mom will cry. I am confused.
I stole a little extra for ants.

I do it reverse.
My tour is my detour
same space, opposite direction!
Save their share in tiffin box -
the syrup and the sweet!

Mom will know. I want her to.
Ants will be elated on sharing!

I do my act,
I reach home overjoyed.