In its turn, Luck chooses people
According to its own notions,
Not always considering efficiency.
And without offering such explanation.
It is blind;
That you can not convince what to decide.
Even you fly to chase,
In its way, it will keep going
Without any intention to look back,
Answering your call or cry.
It may hit you once, may never
When blind has a view
No one can stop it.
It goes to the point Regardless obstacles,
Just with its sight.
And finally reaches its aim
You cannot know or see.
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