Poem-A-Day: Day 184

Sonnet #? (What's the Answer)

What the question is, I often wonder.
Though I’m left with nothing more to ponder
than my own tremendous failing blunder,
the question is, and always will be blunt.
The answer should be equally as frank
with sound and fury resonating blank,
that resembles closest to a child’s prank,
or lesser to some form of public stunt.
There seems to be no way to find the form
and resonate somewhere within the norm,
and so, instead, it seems best to conform
and put up something like a shadowed front.
The answer to the question is quite clear,
there can be nothing gained from petty fear.