I wonder
I wonder why the sky is bluethe grass is green
Or flowers hued
but no one has time to answer me
Or so it appears to be.
I wonder why the leaves fall down
the seasons change
The birds fly south
but every one's just too busy
To respond to me it seems.
I wonder why their too busy
to talk for just a second.
Maybe it's because of me
am I really that unpleasant?
Now I'm too busy to respond
they've planted seeds of doubt,
Which I now must tend to
before they're killed off by the drought.
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