​​Friday 13th​​

 

Of charms and luck and superstition

Of fears passed down through old tradition

Of things left o’er from Halloween

Of one black day – Friday 13

Now tell me, why do we not fear

The 13th Friday of the year

Instead of this particular date?

Is it fame or infamy – or fate?

 

Of black cats, black acts and dark stormy skies

Of witches and wizards all wizened and wise

Of all things gruesome and grisly and gory

Of all unseen creatures creeping and crawling

Now tell me, did Ichabod Crane

See a headless horseman in the lane?

Or was it an imagined fright

Like many terrors of the night?

 

Of letters and ladders and pavement cracks

Of fairy-ring mushrooms – don’t stray from the tracks!

Of evil intentions and evil eyes

Of religion – but under a different guise

Now tell me, did the Templars chance

To die that day in olden France

To be forgotten forever more?

That’s what Friday 13 stands for

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