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Meandering down a dimly lighted path tinted with the shadows of loneliness, Thinking you have an intelligent understanding of the matter of life,
Coincidence is not fate Says reality formed, looping like Crochet work unfinished by some Bored Deity   Coincidence is not fate
I don't believe in omens I don't believe in signs Though our paths have crossed and Our fates seem to align. Am I in denial if "Coincidence!" I cry, Blind to unseen strings? Is chance a myth, a lie?
When you catch the black-eyed man’s black eyes on the station platform and don’t think anything of it, because his eyes are only two in many  millions, maybe, or a thousand you’ve seen that day, only a little bit darker
Poetry cannot be taught, nor beauty be described Neither can you see in me something that defined The colors of my skin. Scars are tattoos in many ways - permanent and painful.
Coincidence has destined my ironic fate, Like star-crossed lovers who act too late, Before I even drew my first breath, Providence recorded my imminent death   Fortune allotted to me my share,
I will never understand those people you meet at funerals or parties, who tell you,  'There's no such thing as coincidence; everything happens for a reason, you know.' 
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