An Incredible Physical Object Am I

I'm just a physical object.
I'm here. I'm there.
I'm putting things together,
while life slowly pulls my
atoms apart.
One day I will break.
I will break in all the ways
that count.
That will be the day I cease
to exist in all the
matter-able ways.
My body will still be here
for a little while,
unless I explode into
pink mist.
If not, some scientists or
doctors will take apart my parts
and make use of any that they can.
I like that thought.
I like to be useful.
I like to keep busy.
No good to be laying limp and lazy
under earth.
No good burning up all these useful goods.
Even in my death, I'd like to think I have some goods.
I like to be useful.
If I can.
I consider it a joy to be utilized.
There is much I have to offer.
I am an incredible physical object.
I can do so many wonderful things!
I can lift and pull and build and dance!
I can reason and learn and question and become surprised!
I can emote and create from scratch and emulate and empathize.
And I have thumbs!
I can sit, stand, fall in love, scream and sleep and dream!
I can see sunsets and smell flowers and cuddle animals and eat ice cream!
I am extraordinarily lucky in life.
I could have ended up a pen or a cup or a watch.
I could have been mud or a truck or a truck stop.
I could have been just a single, simple molecule floating in space.
I could have never evolved to live, to love, to leap, to yearn, to read, to experience, to hear music, to be embarrassed, to fail and then succeed. I could have never lived at all.
But my object was chosen to Be.
I won the lottery of Being.
I am lucky.
I am here.
I have lived well.
An incredible physical object am I,
to be so well utilized.