why poem - amitiel consultants

WHY?

Why is it that there are greys in life

The greys we never spoke about

Why is it that we do what we are not supposed to do

The things that make us hide about

Why is it that we question nature

The things that are meant to be accepted

Why is it that we think what we are not supposed to think about

Don’t imaginations have a control

Why is it that we are impractical

On the things which are supposed to care about

And why is it that there are so many unanswered questions

The answers of which are self-answered

Still we choose to lie about.

On a conclusive note , we hope you liked this write up.Also, do catch up with some quick quote reads :

“There is much asked and only so much I think I can or should answer, and so, in this post I would like to give a few thoughts on what seemed to be the overwhelming question: “WHY?”

And here is the best answer I can give: Because.

Because sometimes, life is damned unfair.

Because sometimes, we lose people we love and it hurts deeply.

Because sometimes, as the writer, you have to put your characters in harm’s way and be willing to go there if it is the right thing for your book, even if it grieves you to do it.

Because sometimes there aren’t really answers to our questions except for what we discover, the meaning we assign them over time.

Because acceptance is yet another of life’s “here’s a side of hurt” lessons and it is never truly acceptance unless it has cost us something to arrive there.

Why, you ask? Because, I answer.

Inadequate yet true.”

― Libba Bray

“Rough as life can be, I know in my bones we are supposed to stick around and play our part. Even if that part is coughing to death from cigarettes, or being blown up young in a house with your mother watching. And even if it’s to be that mother. Someone down the line might need to know you got through it. Or maybe someone you won’t see coming will need you. Like a kid who asks you to help him clean motel rooms. Or some ghost who drifts your way, hungry. And good people might even ask you to marry them.

And it might be you never know the part you played, what it meant to someone to watch you make your way each day. Maybe someone or something is watching us all make our way. I don’t think we get to know why. It is, as Ben would say about most of what I used to worry about, none of my business.”

― Bill Clegg, Did You Ever Have a Family

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