Why?

Why?
Why do I try to have composure yet I feel like a savage? 
Why do I try to write chapters in a book but it comes out like a meaningless passage?
Why do I try to regain control but life seems so difficult to manage?
Why do I try to find things of value when it seems like all I do is scavenge?
Why do I try to solve a problem when it seems like an endless challenge?
Why do I try to fix a broken statue when all there is is permanent damage?
Why do I try to walk a thousand miles when each one of my feet needs to be wrapped in a bandage?
Why do I try to overcome when it seems impossible in an infinite disadvantage?
Why do I try to see what's inside, it's clearly an unopenable impenetrable package?
Why do I try to hide from danger underwater and all I do is gasp for air?
Why do I try to win an endless race that clearly isn't fair?
Why do I try to find the answer to an impossible question when I know the answer isn't there?
Why do I try to reach a destination I can't get to? Of that I am aware.
Why do I try to continue through a dangerous path when the sign in front of me says "Beware"?
Why do I try to answer all these questions? It's so much more than anyone can bear. I know that one day I will overcome and with inner strength and pride, in a mirror I will stare.
Jonathan El Poeta