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Arachnophobia

There is spider outside my window hanging from a star.

He tells me about his day
And I sing him songs about people dying and falling in love
[He likes those best.]

In the morning he is cracked and dry
And I flick his withered body off my sill
Thinking to myself about how much I
HATE
Spiders

When no one looks I draw his name in a heart on my wall.

[I love.]




Poetry by Inked.
Read 771 times
Written on 2005-08-09 at 18:20

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SlipThruCracks
This is the amazing poem that got me an A on my final exam for English!!!

[I gave a dramatic recitation and presented a biography of the author's life.]

Ahahahah. I love you.
2005-08-10


chasingtheday The PoetBay support member heart!
a slip at the beginning, a spider would help the flow here.
love and hate eh, weaving silk.
2005-08-09