Here she sits upon her web,
of finely spun gossamer thread.
With deadly fangs and venom strong,
She’ll sit there waiting all day
long.
Then, suddenly she’ll run and pounce,
On prey that weighs barely an ounce.
Then wrap them in cocoon so tight,
Then feast on them throughout the
night.
She sucks out every drop of juice,
Then leaves her web, it has no use.
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