One Wasted Question

I don’t ask why?
It is one wasted question.
Has no answer for the days gone by

Why did he miss the bus?
Why did he catch a train instead?
They timed his ending.. why?
He lingered at the magazine wheeler
The glossy pages, the plastic faces
The murder and the gore
They called the newbie at bollywood a whore
Why?

Colors of their thousand worlds
Couldn’t eclipse his world back home
Many footsteps, voices in his head
Voices around him, footprints on his mind
Nothing could brake him enough ..why?

The locomotive whistled to him
Like a master’s signal to his pet
After a long walk through the day
It seemed to say lets close for today

The cell phone rings the bell
Silence screams for that freaky fraction
Unaware of the countdown
He blushes at the cheeky chuckle
Why?

The lightning brightness
Like the 1st white light
when the door to the Eden opens
the volatile moment stretches and yawns
why?

splinters run like a freed pack
like a crystal replica of peace
thrown from the heavenly height
tried of the peace,
peace finds peace in unrest
why?

Berserk train, plans gone berserk
The kid will wait at the closed gate
He will go unnoticed
As they showcase the train’s unplanned stop..
Why?

It is one wasted question.