Questions without Answers

Do I love?
Do I hate?
Do I really feel?
Or am I merely a mass of confusion?
A swirling ball of frustration,
Piling greater hopes upon
Already broken tragedies.

Do I know this feeling in my heart?
Or is it another senseless hope
poured over the ruins of past dreams
to give me comfort.

Is this feeling a mask?
Does it exist to cover up the pain?
I have worn so many masks,
I have been so many people.
Who is it you want me to be?
What is it that I should feel?

Will I ever find the answers to these questions?
Or will I continue to build this tower
Of broken dreams cemented in foolish hopes.
I will try to build this to the heavens,
I will build this so I may touch the stars,
Until, most assuradely
This tower will crumble,
And I will characteristically fall,
To my own,