What are shadows made of?
And why is water wet?
Where do thoughts come from?
Why don’t doggies sweat?

Where does the sky end?
And why is it so blue?
Where did all the dinos go?
Why don’t things stay new?

Why do I have two eyes
But only see one thing?
Who put the clouds up there?
Who taught the birds to sing?

How hard do I have to jump
If I want to touch the sky?
Do angels tell each other jokes?
Is rain when angels cry?

Why don’t you know the answers
To all the questions in my head?
“That’s what Google’s for, my dear;
I’m here for hugs,” I said.






Day 14

Today’s prompt is to write a poem in which every sentence, except for the last one, is in the form of a question.
No one asks questions like children, as they try to make sense of the world.  “WHY?”