Ima Ryma


Frigg...


Friggatriskaidekaphobia,
Tiz fear of Friday the 13th.
I await one to show me a
Clue what this fear does really meanth.
Each such day, I just stay in bed,
And try to sleep the day away,
But stay awake out of sheer dread
That evil lurks, and I'm the prey.
I have this fear and don't know why.
Saturday the 14th, I'm fine.
But just the thought that time does fly,
Sends nervous shivers down my spine.

Friday the 13th - the next one
Is on its way and never done.

Submitted: Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, February 26, 2013
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  • Titi Dale (2/26/2013 2:59:00 AM)

    ...it seems you wait for misfortune to pounce upon you! You must keep moving, otherwise it will make its kill. Nevertheless, this is a great poem! (Report) Reply

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