A Tangle of Hurt and Happiness - A collection of poetry

How the World Works

Nothing is ever as simple as everyone wants it to be.
But every person is made of greed,
And everything is meant to bleed.


"Why" is all I ask.
It's the only question that I have.
There's nothing else to say about such a daunting task.


Nothing can ever be easy, everything is complex.
But every witch must cast one hex.
And everything must wait for the next.


If "why" is my only inquiry,
Then isn't life so dreary?
If I hold my tongue, what is it I'm fearing?


Nothing should ever be questioned in more than one way.
But every person has something to say.
And everything has a reason to be explained.


I should only ask why.
Nothing more, unless I wish to die.
You won't explain further until the pigs start to fly.


Nothing is allowed to be as simple as it truly is.
But every reason is his.
And everything she asks doesn't exist.


"Why" is all I ask.
It's the only thing he said I can.
Yeah, it's the only question he'll ever let me have.