Why all things are not perfect in life,
why there is a dificulty in each step in the race of life,
and a need of love and affection which is wanted by everyone,
beacuse perfection is becoming the need one by one,
why we want to carve out the pictures
we draw without filling colours in them,
why there is a silence in the explosion of innocent lives,
why life is a permanent marker which only write the story of sadness and only some percent of joy,
why we cant live without a hope and happyness and faith among ourselves,
why we say that love is deep as we can go in the univer's sorrow,
while keping us happy in the sadness's hollow,
at last the neccessary qustion 'why' now is the most common word after me which the whole world follow