Why do we care about a person,
who doesn't care about us?

Why does someone loves more,
when the other does not?

Why some memorable decisions seem good,
when you are under the influence?

Why letting go is easy
and moving on so difficult?

Why do I now like the nights
and not the sunshine?

Why do I walk know circles
On a distinct straight line?

Why do I listen to some songs,
knowing that I'll cry?

Why do some people find it so difficult,
to say goodbye?

Why do I question my respect,
Everytime I feel an unfamiliar touch?

Why I still write about you,
when you clearly don't give a ****?

Why am I the joker and the recluse,
at the very same time?


Why something so pure as love,
today seems like a crime?

Why?