Friday the 13th (new poem)

When I was 16, I broke 2 mirrors within 2 days. Ergo I will have bad luck until about a month or two after my 30th birthday.
On days that are supposed to be bad luck, things generally actually go ok for me. I think the bads cancel each other out or something.

Anyways, poem.

Friday the 13th
By Maggie McGinity

I usually go into December 13th
With five hours of sleep
And a whole lotta hope for the future

Although on this date
A felicitous fate
Is anything but secure

I’ve no walls closing in
No room in the bin
Little misery to measure

No tacos or secrets
I walk without regrets
Awaiting my grand venture”


“But bad luck makes good stories.” – Bernard Evslin


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