.....There's no true poem
that can describe
the desolate,
lonely,
hateful,
boring,
stupid,
destructive
qualities.....

of life.....

But I'll try.....

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whispering through,
she tries to explain why I need to stay
in this world
of all of the above.....
the world of desolate,
lonely,
hateful,
boring,
stupid,
destructive
qualities.....

but instead, I ignore her,
It doesn't matter how much you love,
you hate,
you wish you could.....


Because you will die.

She tells me how much I need to be here,
she tells me to listen,
to live,
to learn,
to wait....for a better tomorrow

But every time I do
wait for tomorrow
it just gets worse,
more desolate,
more lonely,
more hateful,
more boring,
more stupid,
and let's not forget.....

more destructive.

I ask her one question
just one,
only one.
the question I've been yearning to know
for the longest of times.....
The question I ask
is a question of many
and one only she can answer:

"Why should I?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The one known as God
answers
with the strangest of all answers,
but the truest of them all...

She opens her mouth,
hesitates for a second,
then answers:
".....I haven't thought of that....."