Spider poem: “10 Legs 8 broken” and “crime of being small” trends on Tiktok

There is a Spider poem trending on Tiktok, some people titled it “The 10 legs 8 broken” and others titled “The crime of being small.

The one spider poem on TikTok is making people feel things and thus making them kinder to spiders.

The poem has also sparked several reactions.

“Ever since I saw the “Crime of being small poem I’ve been so nice to the spiders in the house and ems just KILLED ONE time to send her the poem”, Someone said.

Another said; “ppl crying over this spider poem is pissing me off like babes it’s not ab a spider“

Someone also said; “I helped a spider go outside instead of killing it today, trying to put empathy over fear. That spider poem broke me“.

Check out the Tiktok Spider poem below.

Ten Legs Eight Broken, the Crime of being small Poem

To the spider,

the shadowed creature in the corner of the room

i hate you.

You scared me just as your brothers and sisters did before you,

and i will tell you what i told them,

You are a trespasser that does not belong here.

You entered without knocking.

Roamed freely like this is your home and decorated my walls with unwanted, silk webs without asking.

You may not be the only killer here, but only one of us is innocent,

and it's not you.

The spider says to me, it's brittle body squashed and dying,

It's not you, either.

There is venom infused in my fang-shaped maws,

but i was born this way.

What's your excuse?

If you could count your murders, how long would you be counting?

Am i really this threatening?

I thought human hearts were bigger that mine, but you have killed with malice instead of marrow of your bones and poison bubbling behind your scowl

And i'm sorry for scaring you,

but i didn't know being seen would cost me my life.

Maybe

If you didn't fabricate the prickly feeling of my legs creeping upon your skin while I crawed across the living room floor,

If the webs I weaved were made of cotton candy and captured clementines, cherries, and sweet peas rather than struggling wings and blood;

If i had a pink tongue, push fur, a wagging tail, and fur legs instead of eight

If i had only two eyes, and they were glittering stars and not supermassive block holes;

If i was the same but looked diffeent;

maybe you wouldn't hate me.

Maybe you wouldn't have loved me, either, and maybe you still wouldn't have let me stay,

but maybe you would've shown me the door or a window.

Maybe you would've shown me mercy.

(But you are still standing, and I am still sorry).

I think

maybe,

no matter how reluctant,

mercy would've been enough.


"ten legs, eight broken" - I, e