Sixteen more eyes that will never see
Neither one was better, you, the shoe, or me.
A heart full of remorse and regret
You coming back to haunt me is what I fret.
A depression hanging over my bedroom walls
But I've never heard your cries, helpless calls
For you, Melinda and Philip Jones:
My heart for yours, your two ghostly moans.
For down the bathroom toilet and the bottom of my shoe are reminders
Of you two *very* hairy spiders.
Don't ruin spider's lives just because they're hairy and gross and crawling on the ceiling! Killing a spider is just:
Eight more eyes that will never see.
Eight more legs that will never crawl along your bathroom walls again.
Two pinchers and a mouth that will never eat bugs again.
A hairy body that will never make anybody scream again, as that is just hysterical when people do that.
No joke. My brother killed Philip, and Melinda had been hanging around our bathroom ceiling (very awkward in the shower). I killed her with my shoe. We flushed them down the toilet and had a few moments of silence before we went back to watching 'Survivor.' Tough time, man. Tough time.