What are you made of?
It is a question that seldom strikes me;
But whenever it does,
It rings loud in my ears.
Am I composed of what I see and hear?
Am I made of what I do and desire?
Am I a product of fantasy and reverie?
Am I a result of hardcore reality?
Is it the stories that constitute me?
Or is it the poetry that runs through me?
I am clueless about what do I contain and what am I supposed to find,
But I am certain that with the help of belief, nothing is elusive.
It’s all in your mind!