How can I be so damaged yet so fixed
Like a robot ,gifted
With a mind yet none does exist
All I need is robotics engineers to work on me
I feel in control but am I ?
They break me
They make me
The heart made by them and replaced by them
Like a miserable piece without a number
Without a brand
Without an owner
They break me again
They make me again
Till I'm empty
The void invaded my vains
The one they made and filled with electricity
The one they colored red and blue
I don't know if I'm real or not
Living between the unknown
The feelings are there but they were programmed into me
They break me again and again
They make me again and again
Now the hands are iron
The heart is Titanium
The eyes of glass
and the ears don't really hear
you just believe they do
am I real? am I not?
The mind is an expensive very sensitive and a rare piece
placed right into the iron head
Linked to every other part
to bring them together
All pieces are well done
well studied
End.
YOU ARE READING
winter
PoetryA poetry collection that Witnesses the expansion of a human heart through seasons, through years. cheesy love, painful love, kind love, politics blended into poetry, mental abuse that cannot be romanticized, literature, movies and music, religion an...
