Hear the scary music playing? It’s Friday the 13th, of course, though I don’t really believe it’s unlucky, it does give people with triskidecaphobia chills! The prompt today, fittingly then, is “Unlucky.” So I tried to put a little twist on the idea of an unlucky child born on Friday the 13th.
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Unlucky Me
Born Friday the thirteenth
Just what could be worse?
Dad was a mortician,
rode home in a hearse.
Mom was a worrier
She watched over me
with bell, book, and candle,
esprit, and weak tea.
My childhood? A strange one.
I thought I was cursed.
But it wasn’t that long
ere my doubts had reversed.
See, what always happened
would look just like trouble
But when the dust settled
I’d still stand (in the rubble).
And those all around me
thought I was the greatest.
and all hung around me,
newest to latest.
So I learned to worry
about all my friends.
Because they seemed destined
to meet untimely ends.
And so I spend my life
watching o’er theirs
(They think I’m just kindly
and someone who cares.)
But I’ll always worry
that someday I’ll be
unable to stop something,
that I’ll be absentee.
So I keep on working
and trying my best
to just save my friends
from bad luck’s bequest.
