Why do we always wish for

       someone who could love

       us the way we imagined it?

Why do we always yearn for

       the affection that’ll never

       possibly come our way?

Why do people pick the most aesthetic 

       flower in the garden knowing 

       it would only wither?

Why, do we ask the same questions 

       constantly and repeatedly, if deep

       inside we already knew the answers?©

Photo from:4.bp.blogspot.com/-hCyF0SEwvMk/T0rrY6lgGRI/AAAAAAAAD3c/C8Z4IxAOB5s/s1600/Dead-Flowers.jpg

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4 thoughts on “Why

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