The Unlucky And The Lucky

One crosses the black cat's path,

while one simply laughs.

the other, cursing in their tracks.

tossing salt over one’s shoulder,

luck is of the beholder.

“luck is but a mind trick,” he says,

the other whispers “So he says”,

he continues on, pointing to luck,

“if it is foul, it is self-inflicted”,

the other scoffs—

do they try to set it off?

who would be so vindictive?

to taunt luck and all its might

is asking to be struck by light,

or to be swept under the sea,

where the monsters are free.

one should fear the undetermined,

before the chasm is opened.

the unlucky swears off the omen,

the lucky fears no spiritual showman.

the rule of respect demands caution,

one must show it every so often.

the thirteenth day is uttered in fear,

the unlucky does their best to steer clear.

the lucky disregards and moves in routine,

completely unaware of the impending final scene.

with warnings those ignore,

the thirteenth levels the score.