'Why? ' - Poem by Colleen Wright
Now here we are on this, our beautiful earth.
We share sadness, tears, laughter and mirth
with plants, trees, animals and many people.
Consolation through kind minds, and steeple.
So many folk we meet along the road of life,
so many seem happy – so many are in strife.
A selective few we will keep close in our heart -
some we spend time with, and some will depart.
We tend to have ambitions – we plan our lives.
Some become husbands- some become wives.
We take the road of which seems to us the best.
Some choices are good and some are much less.
Of how and why some cross our paths -
some touch us and reach into our hearts.
We wonder the reasons why some things occur -
why some things change and not stay as they were.
Not two plants, animals and or people are the same.
There's not the same rules in each and every game.
How we each must live- our future and our destiny -
you only can live yours – and mine is all up to me.
At times we choose a track of which does look good
and often it does not wind up as we believed it would.
Not for the best of our peace and our total well-being,
too often via rose coloured glasses we'd been seeing.
As we grow older we hope to live and to learn,
and no more mistakes is what we inwardly yearn.
A process, it seems to me, of that which is called wisdom,
I believe it takes until we reach Heaven – the true kingdom.
Some people are to be technicians- some to be doctors,
some fly kites, some 'planes, and some fly helicopters.
Some are mathematicians, some are brick-layers,
some build houses, and some are sports players.
For me – I use the creative side of my brain
I love it - I thank God for the gift I've gained.
Of nature, I often enjoy trying with paints to re-create.
It's never the same and the challenge is never too late.
To write in verse is an expressive way
for my thoughts and feelings to convey.
I do hope my story is clear, and yes understood,
and some pleasure you'll get, - I hope it it good.
So many events that surprisingly happen,
people we meet and words we often pen.
Things that will occur until the day we die,
and so very, very often I ask myself - 'Why? '
Colleen Wright. © 25.07.2006
Comments about 'Why? ' by Colleen Wright
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe