Wednesday’s Child

I was not born to be happy…

No bright star shone down on me
When I was dropped headfirst into the world
Red-faced, kicking, screaming
And placed in my mother’s arms—
The only true home I’ve ever known

Instead, a dark star witnessed my birth
Stepped out of hell’s black hole
Took me in its cold bony hands
And christened me “Wednesday’s Child”
Damning me to a life of woe

Not for me fair of face or full of grace
A clumsy witch with frizzy red hair
Who mounts her broom
And beneath an alabaster moon
Runs wild with the night

Night understands, night knows
What beats inside my heart
What tangles and twists my soul
It doesn’t question, doesn’t judge
Night is my beloved familiar

There’s a certain comfort in failure
A happiness inside misery
A pleasure in numb emotions
For a Wednesday’s Child
Who has serenely accepted her fate

I was not born to be happy

©️2020 KT Workman

Image via Pixabay


16 comments on “Wednesday’s Child”
  1. This is absolutely gorgeous.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. That’s a wonderful piece of writing!!!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. ellie894 says:

    So very beautifully expressed 🌷

    Liked by 3 people

  4. Halbarbera says:

    A kind of grim beauty
    wonderfully expressed
    With an ample supply
    Of regret and distress!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. KT Workman says:

      Thanks for your contribution, Hal. You have the soul of a poet…or something. 😎

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Another great piece of writing Kathy.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. KT Workman says:

      Thank you, Alan. I always value your comments. 😎

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Linda Workman Smith says:

    The poem is beautifully written…

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Andrew Dabar says:

    A truly satisfying ending. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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