FORMIC ACID.

The army was marching in gay abandon. The foot soldiers were carrying their necessary rations in an orderly line. They would then stock it up in their secret bunkers. A small sugar crystal, a small bit of a leaf and a teeny weeny food morsel were enough for them to survive for days. Some heavy ration was carried in groups. They all looked happy.
We were small kids then and we were taught that the red army was a dangerous one and needed to be promptly dealt with in the fiercest manner, possible. We were armed with deadly insecticide sprays and using them like bazooka guns,we promptly sprayed them on the red ant army. The ants were taken aback by this guerrilla attack and froze in their foot steps. They never moved later. They were swept with a broom and disposed off.
We were victory drenched.
The red ants never stung anyone without provocation. The Formic Acid used to raise a small wheal and cause painful itching.
The black ant army was always treated with respect. They were meek and signified peace, wealth and good luck. They never stung anyone. They were left undisturbed. Sugar crystals were laced along their trails.
As I grew up, I realised the lessons of prejudice in life.
A rich lady was accidentally brushed by a car at a very low speed, She hardly got hurt. A crowd gathered in no time like ants pouring on a sugar cube. They were sympathetic and offered help which was not needed at all. Had she been a poor lady, the consequences would have been disastrous for her, She would have bled to death in full glory in presence of the impotent by standers. Such is life.
May be the poor people are perceived as the red ants by the populace, but the scientists haven't yet discovered any traces of Formic Acid in them. Yet, they are treated with disdain and undeserved contempt.
I have mercifully grown up and treat everyone like the black ant army, I try to infuse happiness and warmth in their lives. I go out of the way at times, just to make them feel being cared for.
I lace them with sugary words and try to sweeten their lives.
I never discriminate on lines of wealth, caste or creed.
I address them with respect.
But still at times, people hurt me with their misplaced words.
The cruel words spray out of their mouths like a deadly insecticide.
The words sting like Formic Acid,I die then, a small death.
I freeze like a red ant.
The high mighty heels crush me.
Little do they know, My spirit is indomitable.
I live on.