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The lanky man with four pairs of eyes
(Two of course are glass made)
Is an ambush predator
He loves truth mimicry
You wouldn’t dream
How he has kept
His other six legs hidden somewhere
You better walk past him
Because once he spots you
The lines in his mouth
Begin to stir, tongue rolls
To form word web
You’ll be unwittingly ensnared
And your legs will get caught
In that subtle, silky spiral orb net
You will be a helpless immobile prey
His hidden legs will then show up
A beam will play about his mouth
Highly satisfied
Thinking his day’s not been wasted
He will make your mind numb
And slowly devour you
So be the last person
To pay heed to him
