Questions
by Jareth Valentine

As I lay and try to sleep,
the thoughts fly through my head.
The questions pile up around
they crowd me in my bed.
Wherever does the rainbow go,
when ceased has all the rain?
How many flew the pegasus
before the heard was slain?
Who makes every different flake
each time it starts to snow?
And when the new moon's set in place,
where does the old one go?
What song did the sirens sing?
What games do satyrs play?
The earth was flat, and now it's round,
but how'd it get that way?
I try to bat them all away.
Ignore their tiny screams.
I sigh, because it never works.
They follow through my dreams.