Luck

A silly little poem about luck...

Luck is what I wish to possess
Surely nothing can go wrong then
I wear my elephant pendant, trunk up of course
Carry my four leaf clover pressed in my journal
My rabbit foot jingles with my keys
I pick up a penny heads up
How much more luck can I hold?
The luckiest of all is the day I was born, at least to me
For I was born on the seventh day of the third month
Now how much more lucky can that be?
Discarding all my enchanted objects for my own good
For none of those can help me until I find my own way
As I must be hiding somewhere inside, a special luck of my own
So I must believe in myself and my unique special elements
For if I don't I shall never be lucky and be doomed to be self made unlucky