Why?
poetry·@shadrachjohnson·
0.000 HBDWhy?
.jpg) Hi, I walk around naked in my room. I enjoy eating multilingual meals And often look forward to knowing How make everything I eat. Sometimes I wish I don't wake up Eight hours before noon. I often wonder what the termites Will say if they found out that the wood In ceiling wasn't greased with dead oil. Most times I wonder why dead oil Wasn't used to make roads when Tar is considered expensive And not an economic growth and Development prerequisite. Sometimes I wish I knew why The sand is so patient with us. How we spit and shit on it, How we use it to build our shelter, How we sweep it out of our homes Every morning and shut our windows When it comes with the wind... Sometimes I wonder why we cannot Feed on air, why we have to till The same sand which we treat With so much disdain. When I look at the high mountains I wonder why it is always filled and Satisfied. Maybe it is because Many people go visiting it out of The goodness of their hearts and Few make it back. Most times I wonder why people Sit around and Leave comments About other people who have made it In life saying 'How God has favored Him'. 'How lucky this man is'. 'Oh, Here is a man after God's own heart' I wonder what makes us different. I laugh when they say 'All fingers Are not equal' but every man is given An equal opportunity to succeed, but Morals and cultures hinders prevail, sometimes. I also wonder why cigarettes Drive people insane, Why alcohol reminds people of their Short temper when they actually Drink to forget. Sometimes I wish I could walk around The streets naked because I didn't commit the original sin. Why do people have to suffer for The sins of their fathers. I even wonder why owls hold A congress upon my roof. Why do demons peep through My windows and look flabbergasted? Is it my body or is it my mind? Is it how ugly I am or it is How much vision I pile up For the morning? Do they wonder Why an outcast like me sees light Instead of the darkness I was born into, Why is my eyes a kaleidoscope? Why is the other side of the wall Which I intend to break so colorful? 'Why can't they see?' I heard them whisper once. I even wonder why my shotgun Has no safety. Why it makes girls scream before I pull and smile after I've taken my shot. Why my tongue would prefer Eating from labial plates whenever the sun goes to sleep. Is it the moon? Or is it because The best surprise shows only in the dark? I love surprises Like the look on my demon's face. But like a fool, I often wonder why These thoughts cross My mind like, Why did the chicken cross the road?