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Rated: E · Poetry · Cultural · #1390003
A human being, reduced to a machine.
HUMAN MACHINE


Tic-ta, tic-ta, tic-ta, tee
I am simply a machine.
In my chest a timer clicks,
Where, in fact, a heart had been.

A machine has no free will.
It is everybody’s slave.
It cannot escape if its
Own master does not behave.

A machine is oiled and fed
As long as it is useful.
When it serves no purpose it’s
Discarded like an old bull.

Yes, I have a spirit but
It is now too much subdued
By the flesh which seems to have
With the heart and mind a feud.

I will die one day and then
Spirit will be truly free.
Till then I am a machine.
Tic-ta, tic-ta, tic-ta, tee.



* Written in abcb, 7-7-7-7 format

* Written for “Lexi’s poetry challenge” contest, "Invalid ItemOpen in new Window., Round 42,


M C Gupta
18 February 2008
© Copyright 2008 Dr M C Gupta (mcgupta44 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1390003-HUMAN-MACHINE