This poem is a reflection on the phenomenon of believing is seeing. Life changes every moment and we tend to see that which we believe, good or bad. This poem starts with hope, ever present and new, but gets stuck in “bad luck.” Our lives awe too often peer as a cautionary tale…
What, He New
“Don’t you know, it’s bad luck to be superstitious…If I didn’t have bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all.”
As much
Like hope
He new
That it is
Bad luck to be
Superstitious
Coincidentally if
He did not have
Bad luck
He would not have
Any luck at awe
Know madder how much
He new better
