The odds have always been against.
What were the chances,
that you would be born?
That out of 6 billion lives,
mine would be the one you touched?
Barely, any.
Yet your "hi" was the one,
the one to stir something inside me;
Every glance,
exchanged word,
and I realized that
while still alive,
my lungs were screaming
"help" all this time.
That you and I would coincide
was nothing but a statistical challenge;
our love the analyses life is made of.
I'm here with you now,
and our lungs are intertwined,
now forever.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 2:34 AM UTC
The odds have always been against.
What were the chances,
that you would be born?
That out of 6 billion lives,
mine would be the one you touched?
Barely, any.
Yet your "hi" was the one,
the one to stir something inside me;
Every glance,
exchanged word,
and I realized that
while still alive,
my lungs were screaming
"help" all this time.
That you and I would coincide
was nothing but a statistical challenge;
our love the analyses life is made of.
I'm here with you now,
and our lungs are intertwined,
now forever.
Day 6- Write a poem of any length incorporating every word from your latest Facebook status.
Hi, I'm still alive, but barely. Statistical analyses are killing me #help
