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No Four-Leaf Clover

In honor of The Old 97s

By Tina D. LopezPublished 3 months ago • 1 min read
No Four-Leaf Clover
Photo by Amy Reed on Unsplash

I ain't got no four-leaf clover.

No lucky rabbit's foot.

I make my fate with my trashy mouth

and a fucking brutal right hook. 

I don't crack fortune cookies.

I read busted knuckles instead.

And every bridge I ever burned

lit the road ahead. 

If heaven's keeping score tonight,

I'm deep, deep in the red.

But I'd rather lose with both eyes open

than wake up worse than dead.

Two a.m. outside the bar,

blood drying on my sleeve.

The moon don't care who's right or wrong,

she just watched us choose to leave.

Your shadow fades in my rearview mirror.

The radio won't let me let you go.

I laugh like I don’t miss you.

Oh shit—what the hell do I know? 

I ain't got no four-leaf clover,

no lucky charm to make things right.

I've spent my whole life keeping score,

just to lose you in the fight. 


Formatting might be weird. I am on my phone. Been saving this for today because I am seeing the Old 97s in Napa.

Free Verse

About the Creator

Tina D. Lopez

I’m just a human trying to make it in this world. I write about heartbreak, loneliness, longing, anger, family—all the things I can’t seem to leave alone. Everything I write is about me, even when it’s about someone else.

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    Written by Tina D. Lopez