A Question

Copyright © 1998 Property of Deborah K. Fletcher. All rights reserved.

September 27, 1988

Why do I ask questions
That no one can understand?
Why do I seek answers
In a world that's full of questions?
Why can't I be satisfied
With what I know now?
Why am I never satisfied
With my world the way it is?
I don't understand.
I can't understand.
I should not understand.
So why do I ask?

Comments, constructive criticism, etc, about this poem are greatly appreciated.

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