Luck Poem by Saint Cynosure

Ive pulled the string,
tossed the salt,
wished upon a star.
Found the cent and picked it up,
kept all the lids of broken jars.
Brushed off my shoes,
kissed the rope,
raised my sails in order.
Drug my feet and made straight lines,
each time I crossed the border.
Snapped my thumbs,
knocked on heads,
never kissed a mirror.
I am not the first one out the door,
although no ones standing nearer.
I always tie my socks in knots,
these things I don't forget.
Don't pick up salt with powdered hands,
eat my fish on lent.
I don't put out the candles flame,
despite the money spent.
Haven't changed a puppies name,
my tooth picks never bent.
Don't walk backwards up the stairs,
wont catch a falling leaf.
And when the cars crosses the tracks,
I pickup both my feet.
I do not button down my shirt,
and burn all my old shoes.
It may not help,
but doesn't hurt.
Ive only luck to lose.