Why is it that I’m often sick?
Why is that I’m oft so blue?
How does this trouble find me?
Perhaps because I need it to.
How could that be you ask?
Why would you want the struggle?
Why fight and fight through life?
It should be more than just the strife.
Chagrined, to myself I must admit,
It’s for to finding proof of love.
Even just a little bit.