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Like an incessantly curious three year old
I question relentlessly:
why do babies have to grow up?
where is my deceased mother really, now?
why can't I just transport to Sweden to visit a friend?
what the heck is my friend thinking, enabling her druggie son?
how do I know all the things I do?
when will I reach the end of my therapeutic journey?
Why do I have to have all these damn 'isms'?
Why indeed.
(Written and posted for NaPoWriMo, Day 14, "Write a question poem", 04/14/14)
That really made me examine similar questions. Thank you for inspiring me-again.
ReplyDeleteWhy are you so good at pinpointing all those questions??? ;) A pure pleasure, as always (and you know that when they finally invent teleportation...)! *smile*
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