Wednesday’s Child

I was not born to be happy…

No bright star shown 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 full 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 absent feelings
For a Wednesday’s Child
Who has serenely accepted her fate

For…
I was not born to be happy

Photo from Pixabay

29 thoughts on “Wednesday’s Child

  1. I find the whole notion of believing or even suggesting that one was not born to be happy a fascinating idea. In reflecting on a life it’s sometimes easy to see how correct that assertion is.
    But I often wonder is it fate or bad luck. We can’t control our arrival into the world but I wonder if we can control what we do with that life or is it all predetermined? I mean aren’t we all seekers of happiness. As elusive as it is you’d like to think that at some stage or other, you were successful in getting a glimpse of it…

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’m still straddling the fence on that one, Michael. Our personalities (which I believe we’re mostly born with) affects our life choices, how we view the world, how we interact with others, etc., and those things affect our happiness quotient. Like you, I would like to think we have some control over our degree of happiness, but I just don’t know….

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Superb, Cathy! It always bothered me that I was Thursday’s Child (“has far to go”) and it’s been true! Sigh… Also love the illustration and have an idea of what you looked like with your red curls, growing up ❤

    Like

  3. Happiness is overrated. Times sprinkled here and there of joy is enough to sustain us witches. It’s the shadows which embrace our hearts and mingle in the pockets of our brains that inspire us. They are the ones who will never disappoint or abandon.

    Your gripping poem wrapped itself around me, and I wear it now. Black and glistening; it comforts me…. beautiful gloom to which I can relate. 😘🖤

    Liked by 4 people

  4. Wow, this is haunting and beautifully honest. I can relate to some of the emotions expressed here. I especially love the line “a pleasure in absent feelings.” It’s very true that not feeling anything is easier than feeling pain and hurt. Nicely done!

    Liked by 2 people

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