Questions
So many questions,
My mind shoots at me,
Answers, there are very rare.
Now and then,
Such a question transpires,
That plunges me into the blues.
A question might arise,
This might make laugh with ridicule.
A contemplative question
May force to think for hours,
A subconscious one might
Fabricate dreamy towers.
Some might shame me,
Some might confuse.
Some rhetorical,
Some, with no answer.
Why? Who? Where?
What? When? How?
Like a volley of shots in a war,
They keep coming up endlessly.
But in the end,
The verdict is simple,
Without these queries,
There can be no me.
Inspired by the character Lyra from “The Golden Compass”
mum thinks that it’s cool but since i haven’t read i’ll comment on it afterwards and mum’s really impressed
the poem is extremely gud. u r on a path of grt world of words,words which express somethin,words which speaks. keep it up bro. nice work..