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A coin's flip, a dance of chance,
heads or tails, a binary whisper,
a fifty-fifty gamble with the universe.

The dice roll, a tumbling constellation,
six sides, a spectrum of possibilities,
each number a fleeting king, a momentary reign.

Odds stacked against us, a mountain of improbability,
the long shot, the underdog's defiant grin,
a sliver of hope in a sea of statistics.

We calculate, we predict, we wager on the unknown,
seeking patterns in the chaos,
trying to tame the wild beast of randomness.

But fate, a mischievous sprite, a cosmic joker,
loves to disrupt our carefully laid plans,
to laugh in the face of our calculated certainties.

Is it a game of skill, a battle against the odds,
or a surrender to the whims of chance,
a recognition of our own delightful insignificance?

The raffle draw ticket, a fragile paper dream,
a million-to-one shot, a whispered prayer,
a fleeting glimpse of a life unburdened.

Do we chase the impossible, driven by hope or delusion?
And in the face of overwhelming odds,
what strange comfort do we find in the knowledge of our own improbability?

Are we simply numbers, dancing in a vast equation?
Or do we, against all odds,
write our own improbable story?

©bfa032625

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