Suppose we are real you and I,
And then suppose that I should die,
What then would become of you,
For when I go don’t you go too.
Is it as simple as all that,
Is it true (Schrodinger’s Cat),
You won’t exist for me that’s true,
Yet you would still exist for you.
In truth it matters not one jot,
Polymath or polyglot,
Fool, psychopath, or drunken sot,
These few breaths are all I’ve got.
The cat still lives, the cat is dead,
It’s all the same entangled thread.