The little worker ants had no idea
At what their miniature wallets would feel.

The promise of falling prices
And cheaper goods

Had mesmerized their tiny brains
And clouded their sound judgments

Their ginormous egos
Could not fathom their now-empty pocketbooks

And once again, they rallied
To find false blame and accountability

Fingers were pointed at past high command, neighboring countries
Shopkeepers, people of difference, and even mystical theories

Never did they consider that their orange god
Had lied, deceived, and manipulated them.

And whilst all the while
He sat upon his throne and laughed at their plight