December 27, 2013

I often ask myself that question

Well, I ask it almost very day

Why am I who I am?

Why do I do the things I do?

How is it, that the actions of my youth have created the man that stands before me now?

Why are we?

The mathematical equations should prove that we as humanity should not be

Those with faith tell us that is how we know God is there

Those of us that trust neither party live each day wondering

Wondering who we are

Why we are

Why do people beg for salvation in the arms of a man that beats them?

Why do people save others knowing they will themselves die?

Why do we rob steal and murder each other?

Why do we kill just to see how it feels?

Why do we love?

Is it to feel that warmth as it grows across our chests?

Those butterflies as they race throughout our stomachs?

Is it to create a life and stare in awe into the eyes of the unknown?

Watching in wonder as they stare back

Why have we created such a world where we must work till our deaths so those we love can be happy once we have past?

Happy in the knowledge that their bills are paid

Living in sorrow for the loss of love they now endure

The empty space in the bed

One less plate to set at the table

One less voice to raise your own too

The emptiness screams its silent mantra

Filling your world with the single question

The single question we all ask

Every day


When we know….

just how much we have to lose…