I'm starting to wonder
What does it all meanWhat is the purpose
Behind the gently falling snow
Or why
Does the sun rise and set each and every dayOr perhaps
What is the reason
For my heart to ache as it does
As if something has happened to it
When I don't even know myself
The thing which has caused it such griefWhy do I breathe
Like I am an expert on the subject
Why do I yearn
For the warmest hugs in those I trust
And how
Can I feel so small in a world so massiveWhat is the meaning of it all
Why is it so mysterious
And terrifying
Yet so inviting all the sameWho am I today
And what was I meant to become
What is this purpose
Supposed to feel likeHow do I embrace
All the world as it's being presented to me
And not feel the urge
To shed a few tearsEvery single waking moment
Is being pressured with the constant questions
Of why me
Why me in this world
What am I to prove
Here in a place
Of mixed and turbulent emotionsAm I to make it a better place
Or accept what is and proceed to move forwardWho am I
To change the way of the world
In an attempt to play god
If there ever was such a thingMy questions and concerns of wonderment and confusion
Will never be answered or confirmed
But damn it
I only wish I had some sort of clue
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Book 3
Poetrythird poem collection. they aren't in any particular order or anything like that, and after 100, there will always be a new one. if you've been here a while, I'm sure you know the drill. now, about the cover. it was a random Thursday, and an old fri...