Sunday, July 11, 2004

why?

Why?

Why?
The ear-splitting cry
Echoes back in my face
Is it always the same?

Why?
I've asked for myself
Now I ask for a friend
Their pain I can't understand

Why?
I cry my quiet tears
The histories of friends
Their scars too deep to tell

Why?
Did injustice win?
They were undeserving of this wrong!
Did none see?

Why?
This is the heart's cry
Of my abused generation
The pain we can't explain

Why?
Will our wounds never heal?
Ripped open over and over
Scars to deep to hide

Why?
My generation bleeds
We grow faint, is our cry heard?
Will no one dry our tears?

Why?
Do I ask the agonizing question?
Am I tormenting myself?
It remains unanswered

Why?
Am I seeking comfort here?
I depend on this answer
But it will never heal pain

Why?
We're looking away from Your face
The only answer to such cries
The only hand to dry the tears

Why?
We miss the healing touch
The hand that binds the wounds
Face that transforms scars to medals

Why?
In the face of such need
Will those who come freely
Leave others to die alone?

"Do they really matter all the why's? Could all the answers take away the pain, or all the reasons really dry my eyes, though from Heaven's court? No I would weep again. My God, You have saved me from Hell's black abyss; oh, save me from the tyranny of bitterness!" - Anonymous

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

very moving poem, Jennifer. Thank you.~joanie

Nobody said...

That was awesome! I have come to the conclusion that I am more shy than you.

Jennifer said...

How are you more shy than me? And how in the world did you come up that comment from this poem? You amuse me. ;)