Arachnids

There had never been so many of them all in one place.
Thousands of them confined in such a small space,
Caused the skin on my bare arms to crawl,
Caused the hair in my head to turn white and fall
To the ground like snow in a midwinter blizzard.

As I watched the eight-legged terrors creep,
Inside the walls of their glass enclosure,
I knew that I would be unable to sleep,
With so many arachnids inside of my house,
It was at this point I wished I had a spouse.

Backing away from the spider filled container,
I decided to call an exterminator,
So I picked up my phone and dialed the Terminator,
He entered my front door with lasers blazing,
He left after my house completely razing.

My arachnophobia so paralyzed me,
That I was unable to clearly see reality,
Or to voice the question haunting my terrified mind,
About the number of spiders in the one quart fruit jar:
I wonder now how I could have been so blind.