I always wonder questions about myself, always want to know.
Like why I am hated, why is that so?
Why do others have problems with me?
Is it because I can't smile, or break free?
Why am I so boring?
Everything I do always leaves others snoring.
Why do I easily get betrayed?
Why can't anything ever be array?
Why when I love, it always turns out meaningless?
Why can't I live a life filled with simple blissfulness?
Why do I always sulk in the past?
Why can't I move on like you have, allowing my present to last?
Why am I ugly, my appearance similar to a beast?
Why am I dumb, my limited knowledge for all to see?
Why am I shy, everywhere I go?
Why do I cry, even in the frigid snow?
Why am I so difficult, so easy to ignore?
Why do others pick on me, in the eye of the storm?
Why do you mock me, when you know my life is Hell as it is?
Why can't I disappear, I know I won't be missed.
Why don't I have somebody, anybody to lean on?
I know I am weak, thus I need to be strong.
Why do I think everything will be okay, yet it never turns out to be?
Why do I live a lie, for all of humanity to see?
Why can't I find peace here on Earth?
Why am I always pushed down into the dirt?
Why can't I speak my mind, like others can?
Why can't I get on my two feet for once, and stand?
Why does my life always pass me by?
Why is it salvation, I still pry?
Why can't I just drop dead?
My last death wish be done upon my bed.
Why do I ask so many questions?
Why do I wonder?
Why is my life always bringing about thunder?
Why, why, why, is all I ask.
Why not live a life hiding behind a mask?
(At least that will last.)
Why, is all I say.
It is the question of my yesterday and today.