Some days it seems that a small black cloud is floating overhead
It pours and pours, and any interaction fills you with dread.
You are late to work
You find a moth eaten hole in your favorite shirt.
The contents of your purse spill before everyone on the train
The fact that this day is abysmal is quite plain.
Seeing a shiny copper penny on the sidewalk, you stoop to pick it up
But then you say it is tails and you exclaim "just my luck!"
Wishing you only heads-up pennies,
Sharon
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