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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #1961229
He must be on time.
I am Mere Luck, I can’t be late
for that would turn things o’er to Fate.
A lot of life depends on me;
I do prevent fatality.

For when one dies, Fate gets the blame
yet when they live it is my game.
They do not say, Mere Luck, for death
since Fate is used for final breath.

I have a cousin, he’s called Tough
who’s used at times when things get rough.
Tough sometimes substitutes for Fate
though mostly he just bides in wait.

So I must be on time for sure
in order for life to endure.
Because if I don't watch the clock
the bony fist of Fate will knock.

It is Mere Luck, I’ll hear them say,
the bullet did not come my way.
Yet those so targeted in spree
have Fate applied in eulogy.

I am Mere Luck, I walk this Earth;
I watch the time for what it’s worth.
To slip I would be thunderstruck
for then it could be Nip and Tuck.


24 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
November 3, 2013







© Copyright 2013 Don Two (dannigan at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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