Poem: I asked him

I asked him

Asking is nothing
but beginning
a process of wondering
at whether it is true
and what will come
and if I have done
what I must
to make it possible,
to facilitate things.
I do not know,
cannot know.
It is all happening
far off, where I am not
and cannot be,
places I don't know,
am not able to observe.
It is just darkness,
until I am informed,
if I am informed,
which I don't think
will happen in most cases,
in the situations where the answer
isn't the one I want,
and I don't want to wait and wait
when there isn't hope,
but how long is there
before it shifts
and becomes nothing at all,
becomes impossible.
I don't know.  There is no knowing.
It is just an emptiness.
That is the only thing
that can be had
if there isn't an answer.
There is only the question itself,
unresolved, hanging 
in the space above me.

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