What Am I Really? Poem by Kevin Maroney

Sometime I think, I will wash away,
without holding on to something that may,
Keep me rooted to the ground,
a tree in name only, that doesn't make a sound.

What am I really, tell me now,
why am I here, does anybody hear,
does it matter how I scrape and bow? ,
or is there something I'm missing here?

Does the world turn on its axis,
do I really have my mind,
is it really for me to ponder,
or is some higher power directing me, divine?

What am I really, I beg you now,
tell me first before I lose my mind.