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Machine This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.


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My head computes the numbers
And barbs roll off my tongue
My limbs are wiry, wired wrong
My heart a ticking bomb
My hinges creak from lack of oil
My smile is crooked now
The key they say that came with me
Is scrapped and long since gone
There is no guide for you to read
No language written down
So look at me, just look at me
Before you make a sound
Before you stamp and sentence me
And melt my metal down.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.




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J.A.L.This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Oct. 6 at 3:47 pm
Wow.  I love the decisiveness of the writer. I love how the poem just slams down what it needs to say. Awesome. It sounds like you're drumming the words out. 
 
spency said...
Jun. 13, 2011 at 11:18 am
5/5 good job...visit me comment and rate
 
MorningStar15 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jan. 23, 2010 at 8:33 pm
I agree VVVVV
 
Katrina O. said...
May 9, 2009 at 3:13 pm
love the metaphors
 
E. H. said...
Feb. 24, 2009 at 5:06 pm
I really dig the clarity of the meter here.
 
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