A spider on the wall
Says to crawl,
To leave this place
An empty space
That fills the void
Of my disgrace.
But I turn my head,
The sound of dread
Floods my ears,
My worst of fears
Now realized.

I now know that
The words are a mat
To step on and desecrate,
So very similar this hate,
This bait.
The voice falls flat
On it's face.
"Second rate" is the term
That so quickly erased
Me. So now I squirm
To avoid that race,
So I may take my leave.