Why do you care who I love?
Why do you care who I see?
Why do you worry about,
who's busy loving me?
Why do you try to be rude?
What do you gain from being mean?
What do you win when you're so busy,
hating with who I'm seen?
Why do you scream when I'm there?
Why do you hate how I live?
What do you think I will learn,
from opinions that you give?
Why do you wish I were dead?
Why do you try to make me cry?
But above everything else,
why do I care about your WHY?
YOU ARE READING
A Dash of Madness
PoetryThe mind is a horrible thing to waste. Now when you have a mind like mine, where monsters come out to play and happy things come in bursts, it helps to write things down. From bad days to good days and everything in between I try to make sense of...
