Tempting though it may be
To spin a web so elegantly,
I have to stop and wonder
What use does it have for me?
Those ones in my life
Who love to provide
Some wondrous, fantastic, ugly lie
To keep me by their side.
It’s a wonder they don’t have eight legs,
To juggle such a piece.
Spinnerets dancing from one thread to another,
To keep many from finally knowing
The person behind the veil.
A veil so nicely spun
That it is hard to tell,
Where it begun?
Where one ugly line became several,
And several became legion?
A legion of threads
In the hands of a master…
Juggling the balls,
Manipulating an ugly eloquence,
To stop any sort of threading disaster.
How do you keep the thread spinning?
What is your secret?
Do you truly have eight arms?
Are you really a human?
I wonder sometimes,
How those who spin webs,
Turn out to be?
Possibly great, ugly politicians?
Though it comes to pass,
For those who forget,
Which thread is juggled for whom?
Mistakes are made,
This I will say,
Will never end in much grace.
So tighten your veil,
Those who spin webs,
Thread it, many a thread.
Because when it happens
That your veil may fail,
Your face will be ugly instead.
