What?

What is this I hear,

'Bout people having fear

Of following their dreams

To a place that is unseen

By any other eye?

What is this I see?

It's just not meant to be.

A child without a father;

A man who lost a brother;

'Cause someone had to die?

What is this they say?

To me, it’s much dismay.

To make a man so grim,

Because of his dark skin.

His head should be held high!

What is this they do?

They do not have a clue,

Of whom I really am.

I'm more than a strange man.

They should give love a try.

What is this?

Why’s there so much bliss?

People are in dire need,

For their children they must feed.

Yet, mindlessly some buy!

What is this I hear,

From people I hold dear?

Smile when I am near,

Yet my presence they can't bear.

All they know to do is lie.

What is this I see?

Too much infidelity;

Men are never home,

Wives feel so alone.

Kids can’t help but cry.

What is this they say?

Again, it’s much dismay.

To hear about a man,

That beats his youngest son.

Poor boy! He wants to die.

What is this they do?

Sometimes I do it too.

I hide behind a bottle,

While emotions I should coddle.

Whom must I satisfy?

© José V. Guerra Awe