Tell me why?

Tell me why am I angry,
but not angry enough,
on the things unpleasant and rough?

Tell me why whenever I want something
I find myself sitting, waiting, wishing,
as if life was an idle hobby like fishing?

Tell me why do I blame,
everything that happens to me,
on everybody but me?

Tell me why do I seek reassurance,
whenever I make a choice or take a decision,
when all I know I will hear is shallow derision?

Tell me why don’t I listen to myself,
even if for once,
and stop making life a slave of chance?

Tell me why don’t I wake up?
Tell me why don’t I start moving?
Tell me why don’t I start darning?
Tell me why don’t I start changing?
Tell me why don’t I start living?
Tell me why?
Tell me why? …