U-Object

Existing only in other peoples imagination,
Other people who create nu-yous,
People who unashamedly misconstrue,
Because of too many concepts,
And varying perspectives,
Simply cus of a thing called you.
But are you a thing?
Maybe you object,
But what can you really expect,
When you're simply a product,
The product of imaginations.
Becoming merely a combination of cells,
Is this scientific fragmenting,
Or is this a prison,
Where other peoples findings,
Ignore the importance of your,
Twenty second century gossiping.
What do you think?
If at all.
May this questioning wall,
May this wall grow tall,
And not become a misunderstood product.

As divided as first and third,
With very little inbetween.
The eyes and ears which lead,
Those who beg, borrow, steal,
To make deals for some of us
And to produce their tall tales.
Don't you read?
Because this'n'that sux!
Be an individual,
Be just like me.
Now, imagine...