Why do we cry?
Why do we smile?
Why are we excited?
When we know it's only for a while?
What makes us mad?
What makes us die?
What makes us decide?
Small things are worth the cry?
Why do build up?
Why do we break down?
Why do we steal other's throne?
Though we have our own crown?
Why do we rhyme?
Why do we joke?
Why do we act rich?
When we know we're all broke?
What makes us attack?
What makes us defend?
What makes us stick around?
Until we meet our own end?
Why do we give up?
When others have their own?
When we have a penny?
And they have a throne?
When we have a box?
And they have a castle?
When it causes us great pain?
And causes them no hastle?
When we want to die?
Why do we give a smile?
Because our death costs a lifetime?
And happiness stays a while?
Why do we give our life?
For those who dont care?
Because death makes us happy?
Because the burden isnt our's to bear?
We want death
For the same reason people want money
Because we think it will make us smile
But it ends up not being funny
Why do we ask question?
Why does "why" exist?
But the gun never asks questions
That's what it's so hard to resist.
YOU ARE READING
Sad Is For The Lovely
PoésieDisclaimer: picture on the cover is not mine. A book consisting of the poems I wrote. Warning: depression, self harm, love, and other sensitive topics involved
