Why is the water?
Why is the sea?
Why is why always beating on me?
Why must this happen?
Why must this be?
Why is why always knocking on me?
Why does no answer come with a fee?
Why do I lose for being me?
Why ask why when I actually see
having nothing actually keeps me free?
And if no one sees the magic of me
then their whys may linger
as my whys find peace.
Whatever I Feels Like Writing 
May all pur why’s find peace my beautiful poet xxx
Thank you, my beautiful… person. 🙂
I was going to say “fan” but the only fans I have are at Walmart. On a hot day, I go in, find their aisle, stand in front of them, and let them cool me down. They are so wonderful to me.
Then I thought about saying “fellow poet” but you’re more than just a fellow poet, you’re a poetic person in your own right.
Then I thought about lobbing “beautiful poet” back to you, but that would be a total copy of what you’ve already said.
So I settled on “person.” I hope that’s okay. And I hope it’s okay that I half-copied you by lobbing back “beautiful.”
We are symbiotic you and I, beyond words, compliments, measure. We understand each other on that level beyond the typical. Nuff said! Two rocks in moss. Thinking! Xxx
Agreed. 🙂