Vermin

My heart belongs to the spiders
The vermin, the slugs, and the vipers
All creatures that hide neath the brush in the wood
Away from the threat of outsiders

You’d think that in this day and age
Any person could easily gauge
How the threat posed by all of these creatures maligned
Stands inflated by plain human rage

If a thing is not pleasant to see
(As determined by you more than me)
Then the wrath of man, woman, and child is just
To destroy it if it doesn’t flee

Existing, you see, is a crime
If you’ve extra legs, scaled hide, or slime
And to many, a world once wiped free of such things
Is a goal altogether sublime

But not everyone has yet forgotten
The wonder and service begotten
By silk weaving beings with glinting jewel eyes
Though the way they are treated is rotten

And if there is hope for a spider in hell
Then maybe there’s hope for me, as well