What am I?

A Poem by Death of Life

When i look outside i see everything i am, everything i was and everything i will be.
Not the future of my mind but of my body.
Who i am is unique? But i am what the world has made me.
I had no control over the start of my existance nor do i of the end.
Or any idea that my existance is real.
I am merely a passenger in a reused body. Fuled by emotions.
My only conscious motivation.