I have recovered from my need to write angsty poetry and as an apology I wrote something to a sweeter and more whimsical tune.
Spindle legged creature
who spins her silken thread;
and weaves her silver draperies
that hang above our heads.
She knits such lovely shawls
to drape about the arms,
and sometimes I leave out my socks
and by morning find them darned.