Why?

I wrote this when my best friend was killed in a car crash.

Why do I have to cry?

Why did he have to die?

Why do we have to grieve?

Why do I feel deceived?

Why does life end so cruel?

Why do I feel like a fool?

Why do we have to go?

Why doesn't anyone know?

Why don't I see that he's not dead?

Why don't I notice there's new life ahead?

Why do I weep when I see his face?

Why don't I realize he's in a better place?

Author's Note

I realize that most of my poetry is sad, but that is just the way it is. I can only write what I feel at the time.

Reviews

[Deborah Leah Krempa]

Questions I ask myself everyday now as I lost my son to a drunk driver just last April, it makes no sense. This is a sad write, a wonderful tribute and somehow maybe it will help someone think before they drink and drive. Thank you for sharing. Debileah

[SN]

The flow is interesting. It seems like the first set of, anything really, that comes to mind when you lose something you care about