Why are my eyes,
so keen about lying?
Why does my mouth,
keep silent to crying?
Why do I continue,
to play with my words?
As if I am not,
another sheep in the herds?
Why am I a victim,
to these circumstances?
Why do they all cast me,
so subtle these glances?
Why do I etch,
to scream black to eternity?
Why do I wish,
to succumb white to insanity?
Why are my thoughts,
begging to be so outrageous?
Why are their cries,
already seeming so contagious?
Why did this have to happen,
to someone like me?
Why am I not the humanitarian,
that I would like to be?