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Why So Many Questions
Why does the moon shine at night
Why does sunshine gives us light
Why in the night dogs bark
Why am I so afraid of the dark
Why won’t you be my friend
Why must it all come to an end
Why are roses red and violets blue
Why is justice never due
Why in Africa there’s always a drought
Why is my hair falling out
Why do birds have to sing
Why can’t I have everything
Why don’t I feel the love joy can bring
Why did I never have a summer fling
Why does it always have to rain
Why must people feel so much pain
Why are broken hearts so hard to mend
Why is steel so hard to bend
Why do people push and shove
Why do fools fall in love
Why can’t I remember
Why thirty days pass September
Why does the Sun have to set
Why is water so damned wet
Why do people have to deceive
Why do people have to grieve
Why won’t any one saves me a seat
Why is there not enough to eat
Why do people have to live on the street
Why don’t they have shoes on their feet
Why is my hair never neat
Why can’t I escape the summer’s heat
Why glass shatters when it hits the ground
Why does the world turn around
Why there’s not enough love to be found
Why do pitchers stand on a mound
Why does my bankbook show my wealth
Why don’t I care about my physical health
Why do idiots wants to rule the earth
Why charge more than an item is worth
Why does gold mean so much
Why have I lost my tender touch
Why is plutonium so radio active
Why am I not more attractive
Why is Jay Leno so damned chinny
Why are super models so damned skinny
Why have some lost their humanity
Why are we so obsessed with vanity
Why don’t people love themselves
Why aren’t they real wood elves
Why do I always look for more
Why am I such a money whore
Why is my foot sweaty and it stinks
Why are snitches such rat finks
Why do people shop at the mall
Why does some have to sit next to me in a stall
Why am I always last in line
Why do they say “everything will be fine.”
Why can’t I ever stop and unwind
Why don’t I have a nicer behind
Why are there barbarians at my gate
Why with others I can’t relate
Why am I here, is this a mistake
Why so many questions for goodness sake
Why? Because it is what it is: p
poem
by
Wilfred Mellers
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