Why?

Why does it have to rain the one day you wear white?
Why does your handwriting seem the worst when you try to write neatly?
Why does your mind go blank only when you are expected to be smart and witty?
Why does it become third year just as we were getting used to college?
Why do your family leave just when you think you can never be happy without them?
Why is it so embarassing to cry?
Why can't I go home?
Why am I here?
Why do we do what we do?
Why is this important?
Why in hell am i writing this post????

Why? Why? Why? Why?

Why?

Why does the rain make the entire world seem so clean?
Why does your mother save things you wrote in third standard?
Why does silence sometimes seem wittier than words?
Why does wisdom creep up on you before you realise it?
Why does your little brother think you are wonderful when you're obviously not?
Why does everything seem shiny when you see through tear drops?
Why does life always pick you up just after it's kicked you in the gut?
Why does family always love you even when you don't?
Why does an alien city accept you with no qualms?
Why does purpose find you when you don't look for it?
Why does a little word mend a heart?
Why do i send this into cyberspace?

Why? Why? Why? Why?