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The Spider

Everyone thinks she’s so great, everyone that isn’t me.
I’m the only one who isn’t blind, the only one who can see.
That she isn’t so great,
And isn’t who they think she may be.
Like a black widow spider, she spins her web of lies.
One by one she beckons in the tiny little flies.
Then she injects her venom in order to make sure,
That she has them in her grasp without having to do more.
From then on in, her victims are always by her side.
All their sense is the only thing to have really died.
I, the fly, who stays in the shadows, can’t wait until the day
A person steps upon the web and the spider goes away.





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