Where are we going?
Who will we become?
What is our purpose?
When will we know?
An assortment of questions,
in this question shop.
I lay them all out,
for anyone and everyone to answer.
But, alas, they remain unanswered.
For everyone else is either uncaring,
or as confused as I.

Day after day after day,
I lay them out and wait.
While I wait, I wonder,
and wonder more.
What could the answers be?
In questioning,
I only raise more questions.
I sit alone, and the shop goes dark.
The sun rises, and sets.
The moon waxes and wanes.
Time flows on and on and on.

The shop begins to crumble,
the questions become more and more urgent.
I sit alone, and wondering, wondering.
Now I am old and gray,
and the shop is gone,
reduced to nothing but rubble around me.
The questions still stand,
and nobody bothers trying to answer them anymore.
So it would seem that I have wasted my entire life,
questioning only to never receive
any answers.