Wishful Thinking Poem by Albert Ahearn

Wish on your left hand, spit in the right hand.
Tell me my good friend what do you expect?
I'll tell you, Nothing! Do you understand?
Wishing is nothing but willful neglect.
To sit awaiting your ship to come in
is just pie-in-the-sky for all dreamers.
For most if not all, take it on the chin
for the fantasies of these believers.
The spit in the hand is of little use
perhaps flattening cowlick one morning.
Yet even this task of digestive juice
has worthwhileness more useful than yearning.
Young children are known to wish on a star
but as an adult you'll never get far.