Unanswered Poem by John Dillenger II

What are we in this place?
A creation of God
or a waste of space?
Can we know the truth,
or just what's in our face?
Can we push ahead,
or simply keep pace?
Questions of life are left unanswered,
but in their empty lines we create life
meaning.
Though some become pampered,
others face the endless strife
screaming.
What is the reason for the lots of life?
I ask these questions of a philosopher before me.
And as he dwells upon what cannot be answered,
I continue on my way.
I ask you this now, after much thought.
Have we truly lived
if we have thought only
of why to live?