The Bee Hive

What is my life's purpose?
What is my ultimate goal?
Where do I want to get
to hold peace in my soul?
Where is the endless happiness
that I so desperately seek?
Why the floods of fickle flow
none that I can keep?
Why do i feel that everything
I've done so far is wrong?
Every choice I ever made
is leading me away from...
the very elusive someplace else
where the grass is much greener?
Could I have been there before?
Can I get there any sooner?
Why am I so afraid of losing
every silly human game?
Why do i hanker after things so much
money, friends, fame?
Why do I get stuck on hurts
that people inflict on me?
Why does anger like a river wild
erode my bedrock deep?
Why do I keep count of loss
or the triumphs still left to see?
Why do I have to measure myself
against everyone else but me?
Why do i fear losing what I love
and everything that I call mine
for when death eventually comes to call
It will all get left behind?
Why do i love, why do i hate
Why do i bend, why do i break
Why do i suffer, why do i greive
Why does it matter what I beleive?
Why can't I just be still
and listen to my inner voice?
Why do I do all the talking
instead of making the obvious choice
and turn off all the switches that
keep my head buzzing alive,
bristling with a thousand stings
like bees swarming a hive?