Charm

The night she was born, her father died
When his car was struck by a train
Trying to get home to his laboring bride
But this news would drive her insane

Her thirteenth birthday, again, she's alone
It was Friday, the thirteenth day
Alzheimer's held her grandmother captive
And her grandfather would pass away

People would whisper she brought bad luck
Cursed by the day she was born
The object of their own superstitions
A victim of prejudical scorn

A rabbit's foot couldn't bring her comfort
For when she held it, things would get worse
The four leaf clover would crumble to dust
And seemed to only strenthen the curse

Nineteen-sixty-three her luck would change
When she met the love of her life
But he was killed on his way to the church that day
Before he could make her his wife

She was destined to spend her life all alone
To keep her loved ones from harm
The day she was born would hold her hostage
And forever be known as Charm

Everything she touched would wither and die
'Til the time she was summoned by death
Ninety years old on Friday the thirteenth
Was the day she drew her last breath
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

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Taylor Avatar
January 18, 2011 at 7:54 PM
Quite tragic, Larry. Excellent piece. Enjoyed. Ralph
Brown Avatar
January 18, 2011 at 4:29 AM
Good morning and thank you for sharing your poetry Larry. It was a pleasure to read your poetry today and I hope you will continue to write. The best to you in your writing endeavors whatever they may be in 2011. Love, Carol
A  Avatar
January 17, 2011 at 1:04 PM
wow! Larry, that is sad. great write~skat
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