Sometimes I imagine other persons--
The made up kind being the lot of them--
Objecting, "Of course, I'm indepedent
Of you and your mad narcissistic rant:
I am my own fully-fashioned being,
Hardly the figment you think you're seeing!"
And I say, "I'm looking in a mirror!
The resemblence can't be any clearer,
Your indignant protestations of self
Apart from nature or any one else:
I'm hearing the voice that lives in my head,
Hearing its echoes, putting them to bed."