Questions For Thee Poem by Habeeb Kayode Yahaya

I have millions and billions of question to ask.
But time wouldn't permit me, to fulfill the task.
But certain is it, i will ask from thee
why we humans are always amiss?
My questions are compared as an approaching bullet
some say, it is like a poison in which i giveth.
But certain is it, i will ask from thee,
why the color of the leaves are always green?
My questions appear with great confusion,
not an illusion, but a way to resolution.
But certain is it, i will ask from thee,
why luxury always got you deceived.
Some say, my questions are meant for the fool.
But i proclaim, that the questions are meant for you