Why
I spent so many lonely days,
many even lonelier nights,
asking of myself
the whys and wherefores
of this terrible life.
To suffer such ignoble pains,
to be unjustly accused
of things I had not done.
I searched and sought
for reasons unknown.
Did I deserve such a life?
Or should I count the blessings,
a handful of good times?
Should I be content
with what I've received?
Can I say I'm incomplete?
That I have not achieved?
Or is there a balance somewhere
that is forever eluding me.
Do I double count ill luck?
Do I half the good old times?
I must at least be sincere-
evaluate my life complete.
Yet if it's peace I seek
I must remember
that it is not for me
to ask why this, why that,
rather admit that happiness
comes only if we accept and say
"Thy will be done".
Then I'll need to trek
uncharted roads,
fall into dark ravines;
meander through ugly days,
loiter through dreary solitary nights.
For I shall find all comfort:
the sadness I left behind.
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2025
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