round and round she goes,
in circles she doesn't know.
No edge to lean on
that brings a painful thought.
Covered in cobwebs
sticky and tangled.
Her prey a metre away,
so sad, but she is stuck in the way.
Help scrawls fast from another
biting of the tangles and starches.
Freeing the little poor one,
back to the perfect sqaure one.
Tash loves.. TASHA DIES....
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