Why?

Why is there laughter? Why are there tears? Why is there heartache for so many years? Why is there pain for all the blood that we've she'd? Why do so many words get left unsaid? Why do we dream? Why do we fear? Why do we feel lonely, when nobody's there? Why do we live? Why do we die? And what's with the drugs, are they just to get high? Why do we crawl? Why do we stand? They tell me it's all part of being a man. We think about life and all the places we've seen, the love that we have and the visions we dream. We think about feelings, family and friends, we think about our future, time and again. We think about the past, all the things left behind. These things are like lightning, that flash through our mind. And we look in our hearts, through an image of stone, and we find ourselves helpless, scared and alone. And the wall that we built, we built out of glass, so that people can see us, but, no one can pass. So, do we laugh just to hide away the pain? Do we shead the tears to keep from going insane? The visions we see, are they all in our head? Or the fear that we have, is it for life, or for death? We never know what the future will hold, we keep our dreams, deep in our soul. And we search for answers, as we're waiting to die. But, the question we ask, repeats itself, why?