Superstition Addiction

A Poem; Selection I, Of The Curation

A black cat crossed my path last night,

There was a full moon in the sky;

The next day, baby you told me,

more of your crazy, mixed-up

lies.

I have a dangerous addiction,

that’s getting the best of me;

I have a dangerous addiction

that just won’t let me be.

In a dream, I broke a mirror –

that’s the way this story goes;

Today I found your goodbye

note –

and a single dead black rose.

I dreamed of a black sky,

full of ravens and crows,

I have a superstition addiction

that only grows and grows.

My mojo bag ain’t workin’,

the black magic’s done and

gone –

There’s voodoo in the air –

I can feel it coming on.

Don’t talk to me about good

luck – I can’t find it anywhere;

I have a superstition addiction

and the Devil took me there.

I’m a junkyard dog

I’ve never been on a chain;

Nothing can stop me,

but the devil's long black train.

Born in a dark back alley,

there ain’t no collar on me;

Except my superstition

addiction,

That’s slowly… killing me.

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