Oh, god.

If you are truly there or even existant?;

I believe there is a time when everyone must come to you.

I blame you for nothing, I praise you for nothing.

You are simply there.

So, give me a fuckin' clue,

or is it made that I am the detective

and must find clues my own way?

Now, I ponder if even asking questions

to an unending, unbeginning thought, is relevent.

*What questions?! I'll ask one:

What the fuck's the point of waiting?!

It's frustrating

to find that I'm asking this question to no one, in effect,

I'm getting no answers.*

Is there, or was there a point in my life

where I shall/should've never opened my eyes?

Or is it just me? No!--Don't answer!

I'll find it out myself!

                                                                                --jenson_q, 2008

***The previous poem shall be named "Pg. 31" rather than "Untitled". All Rights Reserved.***