'Why' by Jaime Bree

Why, oh, why did I? It's a question even I can't answer, yet, so many people want to know why. Why did I choose that path? Why did I make that decision? How did I not see that huge, gaping hole which I fell into, whilst shouting, 'Mother of God, why?'! Too little too late to even ask the sky, looming high, above you, laughing at the miniscule chance you're ever getting out, then opening the heavens so your pit becomes one of despair, not just your home, for the foreseeable future, where you will, indeed, be asking yourself why. At least until someone comes to rescue you, or the words, 'If only she'd asked why' are etched with craftsmanship on your gravestone.