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
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3 comments:
very moving poem, Jennifer. Thank you.~joanie
That was awesome! I have come to the conclusion that I am more shy than you.
How are you more shy than me? And how in the world did you come up that comment from this poem? You amuse me. ;)
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