Questions Without Answers

Where are the answers for which I crave?

All nestled snuggly in a freshly dug grave.

 

 

For whom & for what does this foul heart beat?

Smashed up and dirty from strong fingers & feet.

 

 

Where goes the warmth when the world makes it rounds?

It hardens and darkens these once fruitful grounds.

 

 

What is the purpose of hot blood in blue veins?

I no longer distinguish my losses from gains.

 

 

How much longer before I call a place home?

When I'm buried beneath that red earthy dome.

 

 

And what then, when the air stops expanding my chest?

I believe that for once, I may get some rest.

Reviews

[Mark]

This is sweet, deep, funny, angry, mocking, all wrapped into one. I just love the "Call-and Response" format: a rhetorical question followed by a pithy answer. And your meter and rhyme are spot-on! It excites me to see this in a young writer, a devotion to actual POETRY, instead of a diary-ish recording of miscellaneous feelings, relying more on funky spacing and syntax, and less on the beauty of the spoken word.Good Job!

[Ellen Hammond]

What a profound, thought provoking poem. I like your style and the rhyme and meter are the closest thing to perfect as one can find on this earth. I may be old school but I really like poetry that actually rhymes well. Very well penned indeed.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Death will come soon enough for us all but this was a slightly skewered humorous mocking look at death and I think that's better than realism in this case. A great write and I like it a lot, particularly the last line. An end to all labors, yes indeed.