Why …?

If I could ask but a single question

To get an answer frank and fair,

I would not waste it on the who or when,

Of those facts, I am all too aware.

Nor would I query the how or where

For the truth is I no longer care,

And to tear at the what matters not a jot,

Where once it brought despair.

But there is a part that gnaws my heart

And will haunt me till I die,

So my question would be short and sweet,

And that one question would be: Why …?