Irony Of Life Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Irony of life is that of being lived daily without a single
known reason for doing so.

What are the methods of routine? Why are we so involved in
work, play, vacations, suffering, sorrow, pain?

Is there any one of us on earth who know with dead certainty
why we continue doing what we do?

Why we live? What is our purpose here? Has anyone found one?
Or does doubt connect to everything we do?

Reasons, answers? Reasonable answers or answerable reasons -
are there any?

Why are we here? Is there a reply anywhere in this vast,
cold, lonely hemisphere? Universe? Infinity?

Taking care to follow rules and laws made up by man - where
is God? Can He hear?

Slowly, a whispered silence breaks the mirror of existence
showing an interior universe with faith.