Poem: Who Knows?

Who Knows?

Some part of this system
which I have called myself
must know the answers
to so many questions
of how I became this person,
in body, in mind, even
down to those minute details
of how the body makes
itself, how it grows,
how it converts what comes in
into energy, into cells.
It must all be here,
this knowledge,
yet, even if I asked
the most informed
of scientists, they would
never be able to tell
even a fraction of that tale.

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