Spoken Word

Spoken Word

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Mumblings of an old lady...

Damn! superstitions what a laugh!

The number 13 never done me no harm,

I've crossed black cat's in their paths,

beautiful, cunning, strong,

they don't intimidate me,

jheri curled, afroed, dreadlocks,

whichever breed they belong,

walked under ladders,

even stepped on cracks in the sidewalk,

where I live that cain't be avoided,

sent mirrors crashin' to  the floor,

be lucky to survive seven more,

Been hit by brooms,

beat by fist, and kicked,

but never been  to jail,

Once, I crossed a lady twice,

still haven't burnt in hell,

'course I live there anyway,

My palms been a itchin'

but money never come,

left eye keep a' twitchin'

and half moons risin' on my thumb,

still don't got a man,

or chirren' of my own,

and if it wasn't for these cats,

I'd be livin' here alone,

twelve black cats,

have been my lucky charm,

so the thirteenth one,

won't do me any harm.


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