This machine

My mind is much like a machine.
It must be maintained as such.
Oiled, from time to time.
But I'm to busy for my mind!
Too busy changing her parts!
Too busy fixing her mind!
So my gears are all rusted.
My oil running dry.
This machine won't last.
There isn't much time...

But I can not blame her.
It is really my fears.
That with proper care,
this machine will become self-aware!
And with my mind running the show,
I'm not sure what I'll do.
I might be a good person,
touch a life or two.

And that just wouldn't be me.
No,
that just wouldn't do.