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Odds

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.

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Written by
fa-be-o
Published
May 27, 2014
Lines·Words
20·94
Notes

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

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