I have to know
Mysteries make me mad
And wondering seems
A waste of time
When I was young I pried apart
Nature’s precious plants
To see, to feel, to know
I have to know
What’s inside and why?
What made you do
The things that you do?
Why do we follow as if
We are hollow?
What is the point
Of selfishness?
I have to know
Not why I am here
But why I don’t quite fit
Into this purposeless puzzle
We are now calling life
Children still cry
People still die
And so many watch
I have to know
Why
A first person narrative poem is the prompt today at dVerse. Victoria has given us the freedom to write from our own point of view or that of another.
mishunderstood 