Mr. Robot

Black olives for eyes

A peck for a nose

and pancakes for lips,

I built you from my needs

And obtained what I thought was true bliss.

A bed between your shoulders

That flows down your back

My hand rests perfectly there

And it was warm and safe

Until I realised your veins are wires

And your pride controls your cold limbs and clay face.

Knives for fingers and

Grenades at your wrists

I feel you carve your markings

Beyond my skin

I now see you for what you are - a robot.

"Why'd you do me dirty like this?"

(A poem by Life Mazi)