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  • Why?

    I sit here and I stare at this blank wall, sitting here pondering on my little black stool, with paint chipped on one of the legs. Knees together, shoulders shrugged and my hands placed on my cheeks. Thinking trying to get an understanding of the world around me.

    Asking myself those why questions. Why is the world made up of so many races? Can there just be one? Why does prejudice exists. can we just love one another? Why is the periodical table still yet to be complete? Like come on I am tired of studying the dang thing (just saying).
    These questions and the answers that follow I can understand and I am okay with it.

    But, there is just one question I will never understand…. why does pain exist? My eyes replays images of horror, people dying from guns, drugs, and pure murder. I see their pain and I hurt, my eyes cry out tears of ruby red blood,

    Colors so rich, it stains my mahogany skin.

    Constant tears flow from their ducts creating a river of blood. I close my eyes tight trying to stop the flow, trying to stop the images but, to reopen them and find myself off the black stool, now gasping for air, drowning in tears of pain.

    I hear the victim’s screams. Sending an electrical chill throughout my every being.

    They cry for help, and I am helpless because, I am not strong, steadily crying, steadily drowning, just wading in the river that pain has created. As I wade helplessly, the cry outs for help concentrated, piercing my soul, cutting my heart.

    I feel there pain and my heart hurts constantly.

    I ask myself all these why questions and I have the answer to most, and a good understanding. But why we live in pain I can’t understand, maybe you can, can you tell me.
    Just maybe you understand.