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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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