The Creation of Me

How do you credit a human life?

Is it the genes of their parents, 

That have created their smile, their laugh, their mind?

Is it the area where they have grown,

The area in which they have learned to be alive?

Is it the books they read,

The fantasies and worlds so much more extraordinary then their own?

Or the cartoons, movies, and ads that they see

Filling them with wonders, opinions, and thoughts 

That they have never know?

Maybe it's their friends, 

Strong, funny, and caring

That show them how to be,

Giving a small part of themselves, trading phrases and ticks like cards

Is that it?

Even figures whom we have never seen, 

Can mold a person into who they call themselves

And I?

I shall never know

Who I can call my own