My body is a robot.
The heart is rusted from abandon,
But the head gears are moving like lightning.
The shoulders and ears are falling off,
For so many have used them.
The legs have long detached,
As the boots are no longer made for walking.
I am broken,
But I keep working.
YOU ARE READING
Terms of Normality
PoetryI'm just a 14-year-old nobody saying it like it is. Well...how it is for a 14-year-old nobody.
