There it is for all of your timid consideration

Just what kind of illumination or remuneration

Would it take for you to permit

Or even guardedly and candidly admit

That if a spider was not so itsy and bitsy

None of these would be less than scary?

Dragged into its sticky, silky web you’re trapped

Until one of eight long legs has tapped

And you stare death straight in its face

Wondering how it is you’re in this place

Feeling like spider has made you it’s fly

You can struggle but it’s too late and you know why

Radiation has grown the spider only as it can

And now that it’s bigger, you are a bite sized man