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8FtSpider
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I am a mechanism
built to last
with no purpose
no point to my existence
but to exist
I take up space
but have no place
a flesh and blood machine
programmed to consume
designed to prefer neutrality
conflict resolution
never being my speciality
defined by the lack of my humanity
I don't know where it went
or when it left
or why no one else seems to notice
that we are no longer free
free to think
free to move
free to be what we thought we were
instead we choose between what's bad
and what's worse
anything to free ourselves
from the curse
that is life and death
but machines don't die
they simply outgrow their usefulness
and when they point to my existence
they'll say, "he was a man"
but wrong will they be
inside this cold steel heart
there is no room for humanity
in the rat race
there is no time for pity
a machine that bleeds
feels at home in the city
with the fith and the flies
and the pretty white lies
and the rich and the poor
always banging on the door
that seperates myself
from the place I don't let others reach
trying and prying
crying and lying
and doing everything in there power
to weaken and weather me
I hardened my heart
and that was the start
and now I am a thing of steel
and electricity
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060725
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