I wonder why,
The world is round,
The sun is round,
The horizon is round.

I wonder why,
The stars that shine,
Blink in the sky,
And fall.

I wonder why,
People die,
Leave the empty body,
Take with them their life and spirit,
Leave the shell that harbored it.

I wonder why,
People cry,
Glistening pearls of despair,
Rolling from puffy, swollen eyes,
Full of sorrow,
Full of tears,
That fall,
One by one.

I wonder why,
The thistle grows,
To poke, tear, and prod,
To pain and rip the skin,
To stick its thorn,
In your flesh
To draw blood,
In your hand.

I wonder why,
Sorrow is real,
When it is not necessary,
Not needed
Not wanted.
I wonder why,
Pain is here,
For us to bear,
Prickling needles of it,
Stabs, aches and throbs of it.

I wonder why,
The moon still shines,
The sun still shines,
The stars still shine.

I wonder why,
Despite the grief,
The pain, the sorrow,
The moon still shines,
The sun still shines,
The stars still shine.