Weave webs of pure delicacy
pump fear into hearts of gigantious size.
For i am a thing of beauty but always get cries
Why all the hate when we leave a legacy.
All of us spiders just want to be loved
Life is a torment when leg count is eight.
One conversation that would be great
Guess i'll go back to my corner where spider is shoved.
cheers guys i wrote this one at 3 am last night after running away from a spider
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a shame that we all fear and hate spiders so much, they are not all poisonous. Good write Arron.