Unknowns

If, doubled over,

There is pain

Like the stab

Of a knife in the flesh,

But no blood flow,

What is it?

If, eyes brimming,

There are tears

Like the rush

Of the falls,

But no cause for sadness,

What is it?

If, arms embraced,

There's a surge

Like the shock

Of a bolt, tips to toes,

But no love,

What is it?

What is it about the

What-is-its

That make us so scared

To find out

What it is?