The robot doesn’t feel his emotions.
A protected layer he can’t access.
Little heart beating like a little drum.
Artificial heart, nothing can stop it.
A well-oiled machine that chugs along.
Pieces, parts, assembled from all over.
Device that functions without anything.
Doesn’t need love, caring, or tenderness.
He works because he must, no reason why.
He doesn’t wonder, or think about life.
There is no yesterday, lessons programmed.
Perpetual today, lives in the now.
Futures and plans are determined designs.
Unexpected shapes can’t alter his mind.
Square holes, round pegs, it’s all mathematics.
A formula solution. Only real.
Nothing considered. Taken for granted.
He has no experience, yet functions.
Outperforms everyone, but shares nothing.
“A box of bolts.” So derogatory.
No feelings to distract him from his ways.
No warmth or kindness can ever touch him.
Signals interpreted without meaning.
Is life so bad, who has the upper hand?
The one who knows nothing, but just lets go?