A piece of paper

A piece of paper short poem

The question you have been asking is right in front of your face
The question you have been asking is not the right one you should be asking in this place
The question you are so sure of is perpetually spinning in space
The question you want answered is not the answer you are prepared to accept with grace
The question is not even the reason you may think you are here but a totally different light, colour smell or taste
The question goes un-answered because it is culminating, evolving every day to a faster pace
The question is an expansive word sequence that is so complex that human beings cannot communicate, as it belongs to the angel that never speaks and is so angry at the human race
The question was asked once and now we exist on a world so insignificant that worth is a piece of paper to embrace

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Peter Kiggin

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I am a poet through and through and anyone that tells you different you must deny it and slap them across the face very roughly indeed. I love the normal things in life and turning them into mysterious meaningful emotionally attached fascinating object or subjects.
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