The Question Song

Am I alone in thinking these things?

My imagination stirred not shaken

Is it just a feature of disintegration?

Do I run and hide or simply wait

On the inevitable.

Is action now too little too late?

And simply horrendously regrettable?

How will I know right from wrong?

How do I tell true poetry from a lyrical song?

What happens when we die?

Why are we even born?

Why are people so brutally cruel?

Why do little children suffer?

Why do the words that I utter

Fail to find a mark?

Is anyone really listening?

Does anyone really care?

Is anyone out there?

Or am I all there is

Alone

Forlorn

And ultimately

forgotten.