Riddle Me This

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


This was going through my head as I crocheted.

Submitted: June 07, 2018

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Submitted: June 07, 2018

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Why are we so concerned with the color of our skin?

When in the end, the flesh comes off our bones all the same.

What does it matter our weight, build, or gender?

Our bodies all decay; same at the past, and those in the future.

How can it matter what knowledge we possess over others?

Those thoughts and memories die when our brains are mush.

Who says we're making a better world for next generations?

All we do is fight and destroy each other and our Planet.

Why do we groan that we don't have the newest model?

When people are dying for what we have in plenty.

How can we chase wealthier dreams?

As thousands crave life's simple things.

Why do we cry as we age with the years?

There are those who pray to see another day.

Who can truly lead?

When we don't know the way.

Why do we care about our physical state?

For we're all going to have the same fate.

So, riddle me this.

What does it matter?


© Copyright 2018 C A Sechler. All rights reserved.

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