The grand scheme evades us like so many stars
like so many pennies saved up in our jars
We philosophize and theorize on what it all means
The questions are infinite as we ask in our teens
For every answer there are a million questions to pose Like counting the dewdrops on a newly budding rose
I can only ask and not answer in this line of prose
The mysteries of the universe entrance us all the same No discrimination among the prophets of fame
I ask, why is it that we are all here?
The answer eludes me even when you are near.
This poem cannot answer all of your questions
All it can do is make you reflect on your lessons
Why are we here?
That is the query
I could answer you with any number of theory
The truth is truth and it cannot be known
Until the true prophets make themselves shown
Ask your life away;
But nothing will be revealed . . .
Answer in vain and your fate will be sealed.
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