I am sitting on a planet
Rotating on its axis
Circling the sun
Whilst flying through space
At incredible speeds

I am composed of 37 trillion cells
Organised in such a way
That I can walk, run
And jump if I want to

I can make my inner thoughts
Known to others
By passing air over my vocal chords
In ways of my choosing

I am composed of billions of atoms
Each of whom is billions of years old
But the thoughts that pass through my mind
Are original and new

And yet
Why is it
That I sometimes feel
I amount
To very little?