Sitting on the rooftop,
While watching the sun set into the sea,
All I could wonder was what made me me?
Was it the heat of the sun,
Or the soothing feel of the moon?
Was it the bonfire,
Or the icy glaciers?
Was it the soothing breeze,
Or the harsh wind?
Was it the calm sky,
Or the thunder?
Was it the spring mornings,
Or the chilled nights?
Was it the perfect days,
Or the painful nights?
Was it the fun with friends,
Or the lonely times?
Was it the emotions,
Or the emotionless circumstances?
Was it the times I decided to shut people,
Or the times I welcomed them?
Maybe what made me,
Was somewhat like the changing colours of the sky while sunsets,
That is,
Maybe what made me was all of the it,
Maybe I had everything in bits,
Maybe what made me was me,
Me as in,
An emotion on its own,
A feeling on its own,
A world on its own,
A milestone ready to change when achieved.
There were no signs of the sun by then,
But there was moon,
Though I could still feel the presence,
Maybe that was something it wanted to teach,
Even if I am not there,
You could still feel me,
If you know me.
Maybe that is why you and me are self-made,
Because at the end it's either you or me,
Not the two combined!