Eight Eyes Are Watching You!

A spider in your room is bad —
it creeps, it crawls, it makes you mad.
You see its legs, you see its eyes,
you swear it’s plotting your demise.

But worse — far worse — than that small fiend,
is when it vanishes, unseen.
You search the walls, you search the floor,
you check the closet, behind the door.

Every shadow now has legs,
every corner whispers dregs.
The lamp, the chair, the empty shoe —
all might be hiding something new.

You try to sleep, you try to cope,
but every “creak“ now shakes your hope.
“The spider’s here… or is it sane?”
You pull the covers up again.

At last, you sigh, your courage spent —
your heart still pounds, your nerves unbent.
But where it hides, you cannot tell,
and that’s the thought that haunts as well.

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