A few years ago I remember
Sundays used to be the day my mother
Would pull out every weapon in her arsenal
And go wage war against the spiders.
There were already too many of them
Growing in every corner and crevice of this house
She would dust and dust and dust
But they would only leave to come back again.
The spiders ate away her sleep
For she lived in the fear of people finding out
They’d talk how these things only grow-
In houses that are not swept and cleaned.
But my mother she tried
For many years she kept the cobwebs out of sight
But it only takes one spider to create a cluster
And this house had too many to begin with.
We still live in the same house
With spiders everywhere, we don’t notice anymore
But when people come, they always mention how-
Cobwebs only grow in houses that are empty and forlorn.