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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 © | Year Posted 2025




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