Ever had questions to yourself left unanswered?
That feeling of being choked, the need to say something?
When you’re about to speak, your voice breaks, you quaver?
And when you do, you find no one’s around listening?
These questions to myself I thought about long and hard;
No one to seek answers to but myself abound;
I’m dealt in a blindfold, no choice but this losing card;
Mercilessly, ruthlessly, or so it may sound.
If I had control, would it have been wise?
If I had been wise, would I have stood guard?
If I had stood guard, wouldn’t it suffice?
If it had sufficed, would I not be marred?
If I weren’t marred, would I be this strong?
If I were strong, should I not let me cry?
If I let me cry, what have I done wrong?
If I were wrong, wasn’t it worth a try?
If I didn’t try, would I’ve been happy?
If I’d been happy, would I know sorrow?
If I knew sorrow, would I clearly see?
If I see clearly, wouldn’t I follow?
If I follow, would I know now it’s love?
If I love, should I not allow regrets?
If I regret, wouldn’t I’ve failed, kind of?
If I’d failed, would I know what love begets?
Beautiful love, what does it beget?
Is it pain and sorrow, or breath and life?
Painful memories, should I forget?
And come march in a band playing a fife?
These I bring to bed every time I sleep;
Here remains a question to myself, must be true to:
“Was he worth it all every time I weep?”
Ahh… this is a question I have the right answers to.