Wish

I am not a superstitious person.
A black cat walks by and I reach out to pet it
A mirror breaks and I look at my reflection in one of the shards of glass
I have always found the concept of superstitions to be silly.
Do I really have to knock on a piece of wood three times to un-jinx myself?
All of a sudden someone from hell has it in for me and this dead tree trunk is going to, what? Save me from terrible luck forever?

I wouldn’t consider myself to be a superstitious person.
It genuinely concerns me that some people believe a number has power over the good and the bad in the world
We’re on the thirteenth floor and to me i’m just one floor closer to the fourteenth
In someone else’s mind, at any moment, an evil spirit will possess them

I don't like to call myself a superstitious person.
That was, until every time the clock turned to 11:11, I thought of you
Until I tossed a perfect, polished penny into a wishing well and your name was the first to cross my mind
Until a shooting star flew by, I found an eyelash on my cheek, I went to blow out my birthday candles, a ladybug landed on my finger and my thoughts immediately went to you
Until I promised myself I’d never share my wish with the world again because it’s not worth the risk of losing you

Maybe I am a superstitious person.
I will probably continue to open my umbrellas inside
But, when I look down and see a dandelion at my feet I will pick it up, shut my eyes real tight and wish upon your name

I now have found faith in superstitions.
That’s what got me you