• Put together piece by piece,
    measured, weighted, and tested.
    Design remade, copied in ink,
    part A to Z, instructions infallible.
    Hallow inside the gears grind,
    registry an empty memory.
    Ready now to take its place,
    expressionless but appealing.
    Acid battery the heavy heart,
    a living but dead creation.

    Time wears all things down,
    perfection becomes degraded.
    A little rust to a mechanical smile,
    refiled and polished to gleam.
    Step by step in perfect procession,
    awake, asleep no emotion felt.
    Structure is its liberation,
    no chaos to create uncertainty.
    Responds with recorded obedience,
    calculated to do nothing less.

    Damage taken causes no pain,
    repairs made with glue or tape.
    No feelings of anger, love, sadness,
    a smeared stain is not a tear.
    It stumbles on program intact,
    a limp, a missing piece, a fluke.
    So soon to be replaced its fate,
    by a newer, better, shiny model.
    Left forgotten in shadows now,
    falling apart piece by piece.

    Its battery life fading in time,
    its program has no further use.
    It feels no neglect, no need
    wires crack in failed attempts.
    Its shell once reflected its maker,
    now buried by relentless rust.
    Unable to walk a single step,
    it rest, one remaining eye viewing.
    Until all gears gradually stop,
    and it has become nothing again.