She Can’t Even

By Deetya Rajan

2, 4, 6, 8
Who do we appreciate?
Not those, I communicate.
Even digits I hate.

Seven, eleven, and thirteen
all have my heart.
Odds are supreme
Those who agree are smart.

Nine–twenty one–O-seven
Odd numbers form my birthdate
And since I’m a gift from heaven
It proves that odds are great! 

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