Lucky Poem by Debra McIntyre

I was born on the first Sunday
Of the ninth month
On the eleventh day
In the fifth hour a.m.
To the dreamers of a new kind of love
Ain't I
Lucky

Bleeding hearts of 'One Life To Live'
Suggested they go 'One Step Beyond' their natural selves
To achieve oneness in an already doomed coexistence
They were still playing house
Instead of playing for keeps
Ain't I
Lucky

Fortune tellers bible thumpers and knowing eyes
All wrote on napkins
One by one
The tragic ending to their epic tale
Everybody knows there's no fish swimming in water
Without scales
But
They forgot about me
Ain't I
Lucky

Lucky
Because I get to figure out life by turning a key
Stepping inside an empty apartment
Alone and afraid of shadows
With nobody to talk to besides
The face with jagged lines running across it
On the TV
Ain't I
Lucky

Lucky
There's nobody here to tell me if two and two equals four
Sperm donors travel unpacked
While mama mops another woman's floor
Ain't I
Lucky

Lucky
Darkness calls
The street lights answer
A mothers cries go unanswered
But
When she looks at me
When she smiles at me and her heart is exposed
Ain't I
Lucky
Yes