Why does the sunshine beam out there,

whilst the inside seems out of care?

Why don't vultures have enough luck

and when one sees them, they're like: "Yuck!"?

Why does everyone's garden bloom,

while mine looks like an ancient tomb?

"Why is it so?" we may discuss;

I reckon, God challenges us.

Why to be filled with misery,

when I can still be the best me.