Questions

 Questions

They’re unwanted pests too stubborn to move,

They’re lingering thoughts with something to prove,

They’re loose ends that can’t be tied,

They’re tricksters, designed to misguide,

You cannot give a direct answer, 

The question dips and turns like a ballet dancer,

But you must dance to every word,

Or your answer will remain fuzzy and blurred. 

The song of a question is a complicated one,

But when you learn to sway to it, 

Before you know it, you’ll be done.

I wrote this poem at 10:00 in the night. I didn't even know what I was writing about until I finished it. Initially, I was writing about 'answers'. But then, when I wrote the line, "They're loose ends that can't be tied." I switched my topic to the exact opposite: questions!