Dear Ms. Spider….
I cannot come and dine tonight
You see, I don’t have very good sight
Along with that I cannot choose
Which shoes and clothes that I should use
That’s not all, I have a cold
And all my bones feel cranky and old
So you see it’s not the day
Why don’t we dine on Saturday?
Sincerely replied,
The Fly
Podcast The Snake
Its scales reflect the evilness
Black, empty eyes do not confess
Its hiss is ironing my foot
I can’t move, I stuck, like a root
This snake that I’m describing now
Is slithering to me, and makes me frown
This time I know it, my death is near
And down my spine go goose bumps of fear
But when I look a bit closer at it
I note, it’s actually a snake of plastic
