Memoirs of a Machine

I know.
I know why
the world is such a cruel place.

I know because
I’ve become
one of the offenders;
a cold machine; I am one with
the paperwork and loopy circles.

devoid of emotion or humor.
cold to the touch,
I live to benefit society—
for the common good of the people.
I have become a steel beam
of Atlas’s finger.
I hold up the world.

I’m not dead yet.
I’ve just been numbed.
Numb to others, numb to myself;
lost all that is human
lost within the pace in this
world of duty.





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