Thin, gentle legs slide
Down so softly,
Ever-careful.
Watchful eyes speculate
The dangers surrounding
My dark body.
I cower in dark corners,
While humans concoct stories
Of intended fear.
I do not lurk
But tremble in fear,
In trepidation.
My restless mind wanders,
Imagining a painful fate,
An impending death.
I live in constant worry,
Fretting over every movement,
Fear of being flattened.
Some shoe, perhaps,
Or a rolled-up newspaper,
A desperate hand wields.
If only they knew my fear,
I wish not to harm, to frighten
Only to live my quiet existence.
We feel the same fear,
Humans and my kind,
Our limbs aquiver.
Yet, I do not act on mine.
No malicious intent dwell
In my eight trembling limbs.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.09 seconds at 10:05pm on Nov 21, 2024 via server WEBX2.