To chose and be chosen,

These two never go together.

To love and be loved,

It's either fantastical or impossible.

We are victims of this nature balance

Watching from the above,

Making laugh of us.

Everything happens because of fate,

Or because of God,

We can never run our destinies.

A human heart is a sponge,

Absorbing tragedies and dramas.

A distant dream can make it alive again,

A single touch can make it tremble.

What if happiness is just a needle,

Pricking it every time we love?

Having no heart

Is either mythical or Utopian.

What are we, if not a blood clot,

A bunch of bones & meat?

Having a human heart

Is what makes us something else.

Human beings.