What's the point of writing details for moments that don't matter?
What's the point of remembering the names of people you see once?
What's the point of seeing the sunrise and fall each day when you know it's going to happen the next?
Of seeing the seasons change and feeling mellow at their absence, when they are going to change again?
Of remembering your first day of school, when you know more are to come?
Of wishing upon a star, late at night, when you feel worlds apart from you?
Why do we hope for a better tomorrow, when we know it's going to be the same as yesterday?
Why do we live for today when we know it's going to be blown into yesterday?
Why do we pray for a God, hold on to our last bit of hope,
Or wish upon a star late at night,
Or make a wish as you blow on your birthday cake, year after year,
When we know it will make no difference,
When we know it will have no impact,
When we know its just a way to hold a firmer grip onto hope?
Why do we hold on to hope when we know life is out of our control?
Why do we believe in others when we bearly believe in ourselves?
Why do we live each day in hopes of a better life?
Why do we live for others and not ourselves?
Why do we search for an answer to a question so vague, yet so straightforward?
Why do we wish to find the answer to a question we know has no true answer?
Why do we wish to hope?
Why do we wish to love?
Why do we wish to live?
Why do we wish when it's all for show?
Why do we still want to know,
What is the point of life?
YOU ARE READING
The Inevitable - Poetry Book
Puisi"Your memory is all that is left, But it is not near enough, To fill in this hole, That you have left. " Collection of original poems about loss and pain, and how certain aspects of our lives are just inevitable. Impressive rankings 7/18/2020 - #30...
