Why is the world so divided,
Unsure and undecided.
Why is it that I feel pain and discontent for all the loving I've provided.
Why do I hate myself it doesn't make sense,
Why do certain actions have to have a consequence,
Why is that I always build up a defense and the worst part is I build it at my own expense.
Why am I happy, what's it all mean?
Why does it matter if your beds messy or it's clean.
Why am I self conscious and always full of envy,
Like the sin of pride wasn't enough now we gotta get more to go and bury me.
Why does skin color matter,
We see it all as higher up on the ladder,
We should be saying please pass the platter but instead it comes out off my property before your brains I'll splatter.
Why is there pain in what we enjoy,
A sense of embarrassment and the need for a decoy,
Why do we all feel we deserve the best but when it finally comes around to the rest we only have ways going through our minds of how we want them destroyed.
I don't get the pain,
It doesn't make sense,
Especially when people try to feign innocence.
What happened to women,
It used to be nice when holding the door open for a girl was related closer to sugar than spice,
Don't get me wrong I get it,
They all want independence,
But now I'm afraid of extending my hand for assistance in fear of their rights.
Why do they bleed and why does it hurt,
Why won't you let me help during that time all I need's an alert.
I'll help you rest easy when you're feeling queasy and bring you some chocolates and supplies.
I want you ok and to help you get through,
Yet instead of helping I'm forced to just sit here with you.
I'm watching the pain and I offer my hand,
You push it away because I'm a man.
You refuse cause it's weird and a foreign concept too,
Is it so unnatural to think a man would do whatever his lover needs him too?
People all over are fighting and dying,
All behind smiles and people that are lying.
Why do we learn but never get the lesson,
Because of this we have to endure another muder session.
Why is there pain and why is there life,
When it's so easy to die from corruption and strife.
Why live for ourselves when we can live for each other,
Why not focus our attention on aiding one another.
Instead we divide and separate our lives,
We should be more like bees in a hive,
They all work together and come altogether to protect what they know is their world from the danger.
Why is it the world full of people that are belligerent.
Why is it I can see all this, but I'm not strong enough to be different.
I realize it's wrong but I'm part of the crowd,
At the front lines helping put up the shroud.
I want to be better but it can't seem to stay,
Does being human mean that we're all stuck that way?
YOU ARE READING
The Tomes of Allagan: Vol. 1
PoetryPoetry fills volume 1, with each poem dedicated to one or more of people I hold near and dear to me.
