Star Signs Poem by Peter (Prof) Fox

About those daily papers that print the horoscopes
Those silly bits of nonsense they print for simple folks
I've often wondered why, but have no answer I'll confess,
Why do they print all twelve of them when they should print one less.
'Cos Leos don't believe in their lucky stars
They scoff at conjunctions of Uranus and Mars
They don't need a paper to tell them each day
The people they'll meet and what not to say.
Happy-go-lucky with spark of life aflame
Every Leo takes what comes as a happy little game
They make their own luck and play poker with the fates
I feel so sorry for people born on other dates.