Why?

Why am I so miserable at this instant, this hour?

Why do I feel so weak, without power?

Why does nothing excite me the way it did?

Why do I feel like I have nothing to give?

Why are people and feelings so complex?

Why is the modern world driven by sex?

Why do we harbor so many insecurities?

Why do we accept too many impurities?

Why do we settle for the bad, the worse?

Why do we settle for the spoild, the perverse?

Why do we surrender our own high standards?

Why do we forget the strength of words?

Why is it so easy to say something?

Why is it so difficult to refuse everything?

Why do we contradict words with actions?

Why do we seek neverending satisfactions?

Why do we laugh at the needy?

Why do we become rotten and greedy?

Why do I, why do we, simply exist?

Why is a question that will always persist.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

some things we'll never know why.

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