*Product Humanity*
My mother created a machine,
One she could control,
He would protect her daughter until she was old,
My mother created a machine of which I believed she cared,
But spoken little emotion to for weakness was her only fear,
My mother created a machine,
For daughter she so craved,
Protect her in the night for she is the only being that I crave,
My mother created a machine no love and little care,
Or maybe I say that because I'm a machine created to shun those emotions out of fear,
You've all created machines,
To love your daughters so mild,
Fathers gave created machines to bare a name, his generation number and all his traits in side.
And as a good inventor you wonder why in the end,
The same machines you created destroy the very same purpose for which you did intend,
And now you want new models,
Because your dreams have changed,
Fill them with emotion for our daughters cry for change,
I am a machine,
Bones of steal and a heart of coal,
Slowly turning into a diamond that is never going to be sold,
You can change your ideas of machines,
You've changed for we have not,
You've changed your daughters and have left utensils to rot,
Turn the machine against each other,
The ones who join your side,
Who dwindle in your and marvel at your light,
The ones you programmed with your tongue or an area where your fingers for so long- abide.
Sadly I am a machine but I was born with a few parts missing,
I care not to love,
For that memory is missing,
You've never cared,
You've used us - which is fair,
I am not life,
I have no fruits to bare,
But now your daughters cry out,
For sins they now bear,
But like the machines you raised with no blood in our veins
I can't find time to care,
Fix your problems yourself I'm out of commission,
And like an outdated product I'll hang in a museum and glisten.
Written By: The Blind Man