A question



It pounds on the walls.
It thuds inside.
Am I compelled to hold on
or is it a conscious choice of mine?

It bears the burden of my mind,
the sack of many a thoughts thrown away.
Bruised by the interrogation of dilemmas many,
it withstands the black and blue wounds of my day.

I question it often.
When they remain uanswered,I question my sanity.
I wonder if it also compelled
to pump life into me.

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