Spider Song

My eight legs are crawling
crawling over your walls,
over your floor, over your earth,
over your hand
and you crush me.

This is my earth too

My spinnarets are spinning
spinning a beautiful creation
in the corner of your rooms,
in the spaces you forget
and you destroy my web,
saying its filth,
when it is grace.

Your buildings stifle life

how hard is it to scoop me up -
I’m not even the biting type,
but you resort to the newspaper,
the hand-wielded shoe
you crush me,
when you could usher me outside

I have eight eyes, you have two
but still you are blind.