The Questions With No Answers
He came and he asked, he wasn't answered so he returned.
He asked along if he belonged to what he called his song, because he is in shutters, in his book there are no chapters, he looks up and the sky frowns, he looks to his side and he is slaped, he looks down and dust enters his eye, with no were to turn to he searches for the blue kiosk, wanting to drink just a pint he erases his memory just for a while, he walks just a kilometre he takes it for a mile, all because of a smile hmm! ! Am tired he says, how ugly are these days? will you answer me for heavens sake, man should be river not lake, we would never dry up is that not what you say? is this how it would stay? Or it is i who has not crossed to the other side?