Questions...

What am I exactly
Living for each day?
Are these wasted breaths?
Why am I this way?

Is there a cure to this?
Do I deserve to live?
Am I running in circles?
Why must I always sin?

Will it ever get better?
Am I broken, without a cause?
Should I live for the highs
When the lows are always more?

These questions seem to run
Each and every day, through my mind
Will I still be thinking them
Every day, until I die?

I search for their answers
I search high and low
I examine, I ponder
But still, I don't know

I don't know what I live for
Does anyone really know?
Can I give these breaths away?
I guess the answer is no

I know there are so many others
Others with my disease
Do we all have our own reasons?
Or do we fall from the same tree?

No one is can ever be cured
The ones who live are the cunning
...I know I passed this way already
So in circles or squares I'm running

Do I choose to sin?
Is my selfishness the cause?
Or is it really human weakness
That causes all these flaws

The odds are stacked against me
It's doubtful for anyone to improve
Does it matter if I am broken?
A three-legged dog can still move

The highs are indeed good
The water, the snow, the air
But it's hard to believe people live
Without giving the lows a care

When the tears and the blood spill
When oxygen levels run dry
When the future is simply a re-run
Of a life in debt of highs

So the questions continue to be
New answer each day arise
But one is always more prominent
And that question, is Why?