What is a question, my friend, my friend?
How can a story never end?
If you are sentenced to jail is a statement in prison?
And if doubts arise, has a problem now risen?
And everything too. Is everything also nothing?
Or is nothing an illusion, a thought simply bluffing?
I look up to the sky and see a small cloud.
But it’s not truly small,
Are truly small clouds allowed?
This whole sleeping thing, is my brain still awake?
For I think while I dream and more questions I make.
And these things that I know, do I know that I know them?
Do I know that I’m thinking that I know what I know?
Know what? I’m done. My brain’s really hurtin’.
Not to mention my tongue. But one things for certain.
Whatever questions are, they are everywhere.
Some are clear, some are foggy, some delusions, not there.
But all questions have answers, this I know for a fact,
And because of this answer I know my mind’s still intact.
--Ellie M., 11