WHY

WHO, WHO HEARS MY CRIES, DO THEY JUST DROWN THEM OUT DO THEY TURN UP THEIR TVS AND RADIOS AND PRETEND THAT I AM NOT HERE I HEAR MY CRIES AS IF I WERE ON THE OUTSIDE LOOKING IN LOOKING INTO A LOST SOUL WITH ONLY MEMORIES TO KEEP ME COMPANY WHAT ARE MY DREAMS IF NOTHING BUT NIGHTMARES, SCATTERED PICTURES, OUT OF CONTEXT, DREAMS OF WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN AND WHAT IS REAL, I PREFER MY NIGHTMARES WHERE ARE THE YESTERDAYS THAT I LONG FOR SO IN THE MISTS OF THE MORNING, IN THE SHADOWS OF A LONG NIGHT STILL THERE, ONLY I CANNOT REACH THEM JUST BARELY OUT OF MY GRASP, THEY MIGHT AS WELL BE A HUNDRED YEARS AWAY WHEN WILL I BE ABLE TO SET MY DREAMS FREE WHEN CAN I REPLACE THEM WITH DREAMS ANEW ONE DAY, MAYBE ONE DAY I WILL BE ABLE TO OPEN MY EYES AND SEE WHAT ELUDES ME STILL WHY, THE SIMPLEST AND HARDEST OF ALL QUESTIONS IT IS NOT FOR ME TO KNOW, I AM TOLD I WILL NOT SEE THE FINISHED PUZZLE UNTIL THE LAST PIECE IS SET IN PLACE, HOW I LONG TO SEE WHAT'S BEEN TAKEN FROM ME