Whys, Hows And Wants Poem by Saint Cynosure

Why is all that man does want
so wicked for the spirit.
Why is all of joy a sin so loud,
that we cant hear it.
How come we refuse to trust,
anything real honest.
And few it seems will bear the weight,
that all life cast upon us.
Blame each other out of shame,
cry its because of mother.
Then bury deep the rusty knife,
into another brother.
Fingers seldom used for work,
most just pointing blame.
Then never ever on our knees,
pillows wet of shame.
Screaming for another chance,
forgiveness can you hear it.
Thats why all that man does want,
so wicked for the spirit.