They say we’re controlled by the brain,
But that is part of the body
And they interact – that’s plain.
Every woman knows too well
Of the monthly ups and downs:
Without reason she’s euphoric
Then in slough of despond drowns.
(Unless that’s past or she’s “on the Pill’)
A genetic, chemical mix-up: Me?
Do I have a Soul or a mind that’s free?
And what about Free Will?
It’s tempting for men and women
To turn to drugs or drink
When looking for a quick-fix
For how they feel and think
Fall victims of persuaders
Who create a ‘must have’ need
And claim they have our good at heart.
It couldn’t be fuelled by greed?
Now, without their aid – I think –
I’m thinking about me
Thinking about me.
Are these two different mes?
And what about the me
That a me is thinking about?
It knows very well that the question is asked,
But the “How?” and the “Why” are in doubt.
So we come to the all-important “Who?”
Who am I? and right now Who are we?
And how do we know that we both really care?
Oh, who cares? We just know that we do.