In my room lay a dead spider,
An outcast to the tidy floor
Shriveled up and dry to the core,
It was a disgust provider.
Between us was a divider,
But still my breathing quickened more
In my room lay a dead spider,
An outcast to the tidy floor.
My mom, I'll have remind her
Not to keep open the front door
Critters and all bugs that can soar
Since they come and are abiders
In my room there lay a spider
YOU ARE READING
A Poet's Journey - CMWASL
PoésieI've decided to take part in a poetry challenge hosted by @figgyfan and @Fox-Trot-9 where you choose one or two out of the three given forms of poetry, and write four of each form. All in a month. Repeat for several months to come. It starts on the...
