"Why Are We Here?"

Why is the world a swirling vortex of colors, Beings themes, and words I can’t spell? Why do stereotypes give fuel to wild beasts Who go around forcing others To behave like they know nothing? Why is the sky a canvas Upon which God makes paintings That transform every minute? Why is the world full of forms That are fast winds that are born, Create, and destroy while they last, And then fade into oblivion? Why does the expansion of the universe Create ripple effects in the minds of creatures Who don’t know how vast their importance Is to that very same universe? Why is the spontaneous generation of questions A way of opening the door To a whole new dimension of possibilities Whose very existence Creates new questions? Why is confusion a thunder To the lightning fast mistakes that occur when things Go wrong? Why are we here If we are an hour glass That is continuously losing sand? Oh, why does a creature That continuously breaks the laws it creates Call itself a civilized man?