Arachna

Those disgusting creepy-crawlies,
Those revolting little spies,
Are always keeping watch with
Their multitude of eyes.
They smell before they see you,
And they see that you're alone.
They love to venture when it's quiet;
Noise renders them chiseled stone.
The wind reveals frozen panic as
They wish your vision does not hone.
They whisper,” Don't notice my plentiful eyes.
Please, don't recognize me through my
Frightened disguise. Do not see the truth

Behind my sixteen white lies.”