Why didn't I pass last week's exam?
But then again,
Why must these numbers define who I am?
Why? Why? Why?

Why is it that all we can do is try?
But why can't I ever be enough?

Why must the plasma
that flows through each artery and vein
Be so forcefully spilt
By my own blade?

Why can't I ask for help
like this is another test?
Why?

Why must I remain idle
whilst the world goes 'round?

Why must I flinch at any sudden movement?


Why can't I just be happy and fit in

Why have I no clique

Why am I torn between empathy
and apathy

Why must I feel so terribly alone

But if the pen truly is mightier than the sword,
then why must my blood,
be my choice of ink?