Answer:
I am the kind of ant that's good at math.
I can fly but I have no wings. I can cry but I have no eyes. Wherever I go darkness follows me.
Searing 'cross the pitch-black skies I scream in celebration Yet moments later my outburst through I am naught but imagination.
I row quickly with four oars, but never come out from under my own roof. What am I?
What can you hold in your right hand but not in your left hand?
Whoever made me don't want me. Whoever bought me don't need me. Whoever use me don't know me.