We become a little too real in this universe,
With each passing day,
Some of them hopeful of something,
Some as hopeless as they can be.
But, each magical in its own way to make us real,
With little moments,
Some of them expected by us,
Some as plot twists like a best-selling book.
For sometimes these little things become,
The biggest source of happiness,
Making us hopelessly hopeful,
Making is a little too real.