People you come across,
Are like things that flow past a river,
You latch on to,
Those that intrigue you.
But isn\'t it weird,
That you cross paths with certain people,
For whom you seem to harbor,
An intense, innate, intricated emotions,
Be it abhorrence or fondness or compassion,
Without having ever met them before once?
All beings as now,
Have mingled and lived,
As bare souls before this life,
Might be true after all.