It’s the sorting of self
When you don’t understand
How it is you really feel
what it is you really want
Believing in a time
that may or may not come
Standing still and alone
watching it pass you by
It’s the certainty of death
in having felt and watched it descend
Wrapping round taking hold
And still being unable to move
It’s the black and white questions
that cannot be answered
Truth and its consequence
No longer denied
When our lives
can’t wait for the answer
and WHY
is the unanswered question
©2013 jillie
Jillterry.com
National Poetry Month
