It's always why.
There's always a reason.
It was what I've been taught.
There's a reason for the dust,
There's a reason for the dirt.
There's a reason for school,
There's a reason for earth.
There's a reason that I'm here,
There's a reason that I exist.
There's a reason that I don't live,
There's a reason that I linger as a ghost.
There's a reason you once loved me,
There's a reason you pretended.
There's a reason you teared me,
There's a reason you killed me.
There's always a reason, but the question goes on.
Why, dear?
Why, love?
Why, nemesis?
Why, stranger?
Why?
YOU ARE READING
Poems of Pain and Solitude
PoetryFor every person out there that was quiet, not because they chose to be so, but because they were choking in the smoke. Because their opinions were apparently not worth anything. Because they didn't know just how to say what they felt. For every per...
