I used to lie awake at night pondering " what is fish made of?" It would drive mead during my family tasks, so much so that I once left my child in the grocery cart and drove off with the groceries safely tucked into the Baby seat. The whole time pondering " what is fish made of? ". When my wife asked where our infant was I couldn't answer, for my mind was too deep in thought, and when the police came to question why they found the corpse of my baby strangled to death by the seatbelt in the grocery cart. All I could answer with was a question. " What is fish made of? " I sit waiting my judgment, and I still have no answer, they drag me down a corridor to the chair, the chair I know will end my life. But I have to know! They place the needle in my arm, they ask if I have any final words before the end. With hooded eyes I mumble the last words to pass my lips. " What is fish made of? "