Talking to people is commencing culture shock,
A metal rod am I, resisting the thunder shock,
My heart has a gate that says “stop”,
Isn’t it a door with 4 sad locks:
The 1st says, the future failure of heart breaks,
The 2nd says, the leaps of faith that I couldn’t take
The 3rd says, my tears that could form a lake,
The 4th says, the soon breathless “goodness sake”, that forsakes

Vast thinking, see over the horizon & sunset,
Taking chances is like the lottery, playing Russian Roulette,
A chance is an attempt to fail or the opposite way, an unthought bet,
Nevertheless still I will try; I owe my heart something, an unbought debt,

My heart lunges into the open trafficked road,
Who can consider it not a haiku, though an ode?
Are my feelings dry ice wanting to be melted away?
This world has a ruling in choices, I have no last say.

I am a blood clot, Love? I have not.