Constantly battling the world
Because they exist.
The biggest fear of the smallest thing.
Scurrying with over-sized legs,
Like fingers from an old hand
Made from needles;
It preys on pests piffling.
Spindly legs with little hairs like
Wires which shoot a jolt
Down your back.
They perfect their home
Like a paper house in a tornado zone.
It’s decorated with phenomenal pattern,
And is the sweetest size,
But all forces are against them.
So they creep up on you in the shower,
And they run up your legs,
And they dangle above your mouth at naïve night.
They are invading our homes.
Or are we invading theirs?