Perhaps there are questions it’s better not to ask . . .
I exist in a volume of space,
The edges of which you can see.
Everything outside’s the Universe;
Everything inside is Me.
Each thing is defined by its boundaries
Which set it apart from the rest.
But a difficult question arises
Which leaves my grey cells highly stressed:
“Does the Universe also have edges?”
If no, then how can it exist?
If yes, you must ask “What’s outside them?”
It’s driving me right round the twist . . .