I was a ROBOT

The arc of pure light is blinding

It was a message all in binary perfection

I didn’t know I was in the machine

Those files they die too, the hard-

drive can be erased by gears and suction

The arc of pure light is blinding

You were buried, fragmented inside

I hated the way you programmed your son

I didn’t know I was from the machine

Three days dead a father told one boy

Not the other good son, not the automaton

The beauty of pure light is blinding

My brother told me my hate had died

The text was so much; it burned my iron skin

I did not know I was a machine

Opened to the light, the memories dance

If she died must my hate die? Will I speak with him?

The arc of pure light is blinding

I am still, with curious hope, part machine