For my final poem of the semester I decided to go with another one that I had written earlier in the semester. “Why” is an interesting poem. Most of the time I try to end a poem on an upbeat message, but “Why” ends in the admission that there is no set reason not to just give up on life. There is no single answer for all people on why living is a worthwhile thing. That idea strikes me as one not often discussed. I feel confident is saying that we all believe that suicide is not the answer to life’s problem, but the often arguments for why you should not such as “life gets better” or “think about the ones who love you” do not really mean anything to the one suffering. Instead each person has to find their own unique reason to live. This is the question that the poem leaves you with.

The rest of the poem contains a couple ideas I really like exploring. I do not really write in a typical stanza structure, but the first chain of ideas after the initial opening is my admission of inexperience. It is the admission that this is my vent. “I write poetry not as some expert / But rather some kind of freak” because poetry is the pouring out of my soul and consciousness. That leads directly into the admission that I am not good at opening up. I bottle things up until I am ready to burst and from that bursting comes poetry. To me this emotional pressure, although unpleasant, creates my best work of poetry, a song of words and pure meaning.

The bulk of the poem is one big stanza at the end. It discusses the shifting mind state that I sometimes find myself in. There are days where I feel like an alien living in a world I do not understand which is not inherently a bad thing, but it can be rather isolating. The line ”Because it’s not a question of who but why” begins the final wrap up with an admission that I have a grasp on who I am, but I do not understand why I am this way. This leads back to the beginning question of why. Why is life worth it. Why should I be the way I am and not just end it. This is the fundamental question and frankly this poem does not give an answer because there is no answer I can give. I have my reason. Now more than ever I have a grasp on myself and my mind, but the way I found that hand hold on reality won’t work for everyone. Every person is different. Everyone has their own purpose in life or their own reason to stay around. Maybe you have a dream you fight to fulfill or maybe there is a person or  people you stick around for. Maybe you don’t know what your reason is, but its there. Regardless, find your reason and help others do the same when you can. It exist and when you find it hold on and never let go. The sky isn’t going anywhere. You can reach up to the heavens another day.