WHY
A Shakespearean sonnet
Why is a poignant question we ask,
For many a purpose and reason.
We asked why the grass was green for a while,
Now welcoming changing of season.
We ask why to understand many things,
Wondering rationales which lie beneath.
We ask why we have been dealt a hand
That can, oftentimes, leave us in grief.
We ask why we fear and ask why we love;
We ask why nations insist upon war.
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