Little Ms. Robot.

by Louis B. Shalako

c2010

All Rights Reserved












I, robot

Don’t have the capacity

To dream about tomorrow

But I never spell a word wrong

Fueled up, brains all loaded

With everything that’s passed

And I have no place to go

I can never die

As long as the batteries last

Here I come

Here I come

Here I come

I have never speculated

As to where I came from

Did I spring from the dust?

Was I created?

I’ve never cared. I’ve never asked.

Simply because it’s easier

In the Good Lord I trust

Here I come

Here I come

Here I come

Cryogenic heart, skin a polished silver

One thing I am glad of

For this I thank my builder

I can never rust.

And in my own self-assumptions;

I place my deepest trust

I, robot; am happy within myself.

Here I come

Here I come

Here I come…


Editor's Note: This poem first appeared in 'Twisted Tongue,' (UK) as 'Mr. Robot,' in July 2010. A quick gender-changing re-write, and you got a whole new poem! But at least now the picture makes a little more sense.