Shaped out of eggs and I believe
Life seeks for order after all
No matter if it wants to leave.
The plastic of a dinosaur
Was once the real thing, when alive,
Returned to what it was before
So life, it seems, will always strive
To find itself, and recreate
The shapes and sights of what should be;
The eggs and chicken that we ate
Are joined beyond time's unity.
And so I think someday that I
Will be a person when I die.
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