Crushed by heel

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Why can’t I kill an ant
Without guilt? I just can’t.

It has no thought for me
A food source that’s just free

I’m glad to live and let
So each stomp I regret

But I can’t outrun numbers
Of legs and colony members

I waste more angst despairing
Than stubborn pests’ bewaring

I should protect my personal grains
Instead of surrendering my pains.

This ant has used me, free and raw
If roles reversed I’d lose the draw.

I need recall  what life reveals
Stomp on head lest crushed by heel.