Superstition Poem by Saint Cynosure

Ive pulled the string,
tossed the salt,
wished upon a star.
Found a 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,
every time I crossed a border.
Snapped my thumbs,
knocked on heads,
never kissed a mirror.
I'm not the first one out the door,
although no one's standing nearer.
Don't pick up salt with powdered hands,
eat my fish on lent.
I don't put out a candles flame,
despite the money spent.
Never changed a puppy's name,
my toothpick never bent.
Don't walk backwards up the stairs,
wont catch a falling leaf.
And when the car crosses the tracks,
I pick up 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.