Pablo Neruda wrote an entire book of untitled poems based on questions, many of which don’t seem to have rational answers. We wrote our own question poems which dig into mystery.

Room 314

The Society Fills Us with Questions
Laurel D.

Where do I begin, in the
middle or halfway?

What will happen, what
might not?

Why are people always in the
wrong place at the rock time?

Why do things happen at
the wrong time or place, why not?

Why do schools
kill creativity, are they scared?

What is the truth,
what are you hiding?

Where do I stop, am I
already there?

What is the government
hiding from us, why?

Why do we ask questions, why
do we keep it to ourselves?

Alex C.

Are all the Gods
we believe in a mystic energy?

And all the tales
that our parents tell us,
are they really true?

Kiara L.

If school is more about learning than grades
why do kids cheat to keep their grades up?

If you tell someone they are seeking attention
why do they hide their emotions when people ask?

Why do people bully
and think it gives them more “power?”

Why does my aunt make good cake
but not good icing?

If something makes someone happy
why take that from them?

Pregunta sin respuesta
Genesis R.

¿Qué sucedería si las
flores se extinguieron?

¿Cuanta imaginación tiene
un cientifico?

¿Cuantas preguntas
tiene un niño?

¿Cómo sería este mundo si las
personas volaran?

¿Qué pasaría si
no existiera nada?

Question Without Answer
Genesis R.

What would happen if the
flowers were extinguished?

How much imagination
does a scientist have?

How many questions does
a child have?

What would this world be like
if people could fly?

What would happen
if nothing existed?

Room 320

Nathan G.

How do you fall into love?

How long does it last?

Will you always have love with the same person?

How do you lose love?

Hillary C.

Is there a pattern
in life?

In nature, is it
always peaceful?

Where can I be,
purposed by me?

If the color red runs out,
with what will we describe love?

Tell me, is the grass
perfect or is that mean?

Why do clouds
conceal so white?

Who hears us anyway
through all of this?

Is there anything
worse than being depressed?

Gregory R.

Can the birds cry
when they feel pain?

Can trees say

Do books get bored
of just staying there?

Can happiness make
you sad?

Can the umbrella protect
the tears from you?

Can an eraser erase
the feeling deep in your heart?

Can a flag wave your
emotions away?

Or you’re the one who
has to end this?

Randy M.

When I die who
decides where I go?

When it rains is
it just tears from the heavens?

When a rainbow appears
what does it tell us?



“Writing poetry makes me feel like I can see myself, like I can see my reflection, but not in a mirror, in the world. I write and I know I can be reflected.”
-Oscar S.

“Writing poetry makes me feel free.”
-Buenda D.

“Writing poetry is like your best friend.”
-Jessica M.