I lay dormant like the old house behind the tree.
...My thoughts and ideas are lost like the papers to the window.
My warm cacoon is what traps me so well.
What was once there is now gone.
I swat at the air to catch a few thoughts.
Gathered here they stay for a while.
Others are lost as if forever.

In recent times life is different.
...Ground down by time,
all that is left is time.
So much time.
Such little time left.
What is life?
Where is life?
Where have all the answers gone?
So many questions spew from my brain.
Where have all the answers gone?
The vicious cycle.
Q&A.

In Recent Times I ask myself; Where have all the answers gone?