Why must you flounder at my sight?
I wish no harm; can't even bite
Or scratch.
I've no claws for scratching,
Nor paws for catching.
I've not even flight.

Unlike your fierce, four-legged friends,
I've no grave, enchanting wildness
To charm this stark existence.
Perhaps in frenzy you forgot:
I've ne'er knives nor fangs to fear,
For eight legs will suffice
To scar you with this prejudice.
But that's okay.
You've reason to discriminate,
And so, your humble household servant;
I am yours to hate.

For you, a gift in finest silk -
A Web by many a tailor, famed
On crochured cloth. I'll spin all day
And never scorn the plagiarists.

So darling children, never cry.
I've neither hooks nor tools, for I
Posess not even needles
To avert your little eyes.

But it's okay.
Leave me only dust and flies
And you may hate and hate away.