The Question is Never
Who will lock the door
or leap in front of the jacketed
bullet. Nor is it four words
born in lust and camouflaged
with piety. No one cares
if you blink or continue
breathing. No one knows
what you think. Nothing
matters. Not the pen
in her hand or your finger
on the trigger. Not the crying
and the dead and the stains
in the hallway, the man
in the street hiding behind
himself. The question
is no question, but an answer
struggling to emerge. Never
formed, never truly complete.
“The Question is Never” first appeared on Vox Populi in June 2018.
Wow. That is a brain tickler.
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Thank you, Isabella!
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Beautiful writing, thanks for sharing.
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Thank you for reading!
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Wow.
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Thank you, Jeni!
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What a thought provoking poem. Thanks for sharing Bob and more ink to your pen.
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Glad you liked it, A-Jay. Thank you.
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Please Bob, the pleasure is mine 🙂
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Chilling
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Thanks, Jilanne. Our propensity for violence is chilling.
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This is so good… so cleverly put..
“Not the pen
in her hand or your finger
on the trigger. ”
Loved it ❤
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Thank you very much!
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