The world as turn once again to stare against me, but why?
It is because the way I look or it is because I have no life to share.
As I fall into the depth of the wicket, I began to find I myself trap within my soul but why?
Why is it so hard for me to understand I will never be the king that which my father was.
Why it is so hard to live without the world looking over my shoulders why…..why
Perhaps if I travel to a no man land the world would care, nor the mother that once carried me.
As I see myself falling into the depth of the wicket I will never understand why
Comments about this poem (why by jerry paul )
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