I am no longer a child, I am a mother, wife, and some would say an adult (even though I do not feel like one). There are many times I find myself wondering WHY... Why this life, Why me... and then I find myself thinking of a poem I wrote some time when I was a teenager (probably 97, 98sih), and it gets me threw another day.
I live this life you've handed me,
And wonder Why?
So imperfect and full of shadows,
But who can live it better then I?