Three times. Lucky.

Number one was nothing. Had his design
Represented a single merit of
Worship, today would be an anniversary.
Like learning reality of above.
The second one was a complete write-off.
Five foot nothing. Hand raising. Mouth running.
Fool. I tried to speak and could only cough.
You fucking. Sick. Bitch. I hope you soon. Dye
And color the ways one and two don’t count.
Should anyone ask me, I will say. Three.