Questions

I did mention this is a younger me, right? If you are just tuning in, I am posting old poems and such from a journal dating from 2000-2005. Although younger, if i do say myself...i was quite introspective. HA. But... on to the poem:

Life is full of questions and let downs,
Rises and falls.
Do we all posses the ingenuity to pick ourselves up after every fallen plateau?
Can our smiles be so eternally ingrained in our daily routines that people no longer know when to hold out their hands?
Complications are more comfortable than happiness.
People come and go - so the saying states, but is any one person willing to hold on tight to those they don't want to let slip through their fingers?
Is fate a word everyone believes and lives by?
How can a clock run every life known to God?
Where did the simple things go?
Love...
Laughter...
Hope...
Life is full of questions...
Does that mean death is full of answers?

~