Is it my fault that you say what you say?
Is it my fault that you sing the way you sing?
Is it my fault that you write the way you do?
Is it my fault that you talk the way you do?
Is it my fault that your heart beats faster than mine?
Is it my fault that you look the way you do?
Is it my fault that you react the way you do?
Is it my fault that you betrayed the virtues in our values?
Is it my fault that you crucified the truth in your hearts?
Is it my fault for praying for your progress?
Is it my fault for wishing your success?
Is it my fault for caring to care?
Is it my fault for warning you about the whirlwind?
Is it my fault for preventing that odd ordeal from ordinary ordinance?
Is it my fault for desiring a direct destination of our destiny?
Is it my fault for asking the assertion in your allusions?
Is it my fault for poking periods in the practical pretence and poisons in our policies?
Is it my fault for questioning the quality in your quest?
Is it my fault for seeking salvation from sojourners of Savelugu?
Is it my fault for testing the transition in traveling tales?
Is it my fault for hissing at the historical hitches?
Is it my fault for kissing the kindred kingdoms of kindness?
Is it my fault for bracing the blessed blames in our backyard?
Is it my fault for critiquing the crimes of our corrupt colleagues in our country?
Is it my fault for eliminating the elegance in the enemies of our environment?
Is it my fault for mentioning men meddling in monetary maladies and malfeasance?
Please tell me, what is our fault in not talking to the transgressions of the tenants of our talents?
What's our fault in allowing these grievous nonsense to fester?
What's our fault in being too docile to permit the vilification of truth, while falsehood belches boastfully?
How can we dredge the sewers in our ill-will as we continuously look for scapegoats to blame and shame for our woes?
How can we address our stunning irresponsibility when everybody thinks the other person is the sinner?
Can we dare question the Creator for allowing us live in these everlasting erratic emotional scenes of schedules?
KYB
