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BrokenLilacPoems
Morning sun rises, here he comes All night I have waited Waiting for him to wake from his slumber He is old, frail in need of company She left him for a place in the clouds Never a smile only a frown I long to say good day Its lonely on the web Waiting to snare a bug On the silken strands I call home He shuffles his feet along the rug I watch it all high upon the ceiling Wishing for a glance upon my web He never see's me I see him with all eight eyes Mr Mccoy, That's what I call him He makes a cup of tea I stretch a few legs hoping he will notice The kettle boils, steam burns my feet I scuttle to the top as beads form Like raindrops on silver strings His tender eyes peer out glass panes Watching his crop, Old Mr Mccoy Deep lines mark his face, thoughts of her mark his mind Eight legs, no way to hug If only he would see a friend in me A picture of her, a tear shed I spin my web, lowering Closer and closer to his head "Mr Mccoy ill be your friend!" No words can I make to fall on death ears He takes his tea and leaves me be Tomorrow he might look up Ill be ready, waiting on my web.
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Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 4:23 AM UTC
Waiting on my web
Morning sun rises, here he comes All night I have waited Waiting for him to wake from his slumber He is old, frail in need of company She left him for a place in the clouds Never a smile only a frown I long to say good day Its lonely on the web Waiting to snare a bug On the silken strands I call home He shuffles his feet along the rug I watch it all high upon the ceiling Wishing for a glance upon my web He never see's me I see him with all eight eyes Mr Mccoy, That's what I call him He makes a cup of tea I stretch a few legs hoping he will notice The kettle boils, steam burns my feet I scuttle to the top as beads form Like raindrops on silver strings His tender eyes peer out glass panes Watching his crop, Old Mr Mccoy Deep lines mark his face, thoughts of her mark his mind Eight legs, no way to hug If only he would see a friend in me A picture of her, a tear shed I spin my web, lowering Closer and closer to his head "Mr Mccoy ill be your friend!" No words can I make to fall on death ears He takes his tea and leaves me be Tomorrow he might look up Ill be ready, waiting on my web.
A little story of a spider who just wants a friend.
#friend#spider#web#love
BrokenLilac
Written by
BrokenLilac
21/M/Citizen of earth
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 4:23 AM UTC
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