Wednesday’s child is full of woe
But not the Wednesday child I know…
She might be pale as driven snow
With eyes as wide as forest doe
She favours frocks as dark as night
Her neck framed by a collar white
Her bow like lips pressed oh so tight
Her favourite time of day is night
Keeps all emotions deep inside her
Yet spends time raising baby spiders
The “normal” folks always deride her
But she lets no opinion guide her
Her tendencies might seem sadistic
But that view is just too simplistic
Precocious is more realistic
But she prefers term “nihilistic”
There’s something that is true and pure
To none and nothing she’ll defer
A wee bit strange? I will concur
Yet, the kind of girl I do prefer!
It matters not what others say
Who cares if kids might run away
She chooses to defy cliche
And we’d have her no other way!
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