WhY?

Why?

Why should I cry for someone,

who would not cry for me?

Why should I look at them,

with sympathetic eyes,

when they look at me in hate?

Their hearts are stone,

why should I pray for them.

They do not want me,

I don't need them.

Yet something burns inside,

A flame of love and hope.

I can not help but feel sorry for them,

The sorrow that they will never know.

This flame of compassion I have,

for everyone I see.