they make us machines
one trick ponies
performing this vast
circus of routine
they make us machines
with one good hand
the forgotten other
behind
withered
we wonder why
we paddle hard
but always in circles
they make us machines
feed us
eat-all-you-want
stuff-my-face
paper
advertisements
we wonder why
we grab all we can
but still we want more
they make us machines
divided our being
our souls
and killed us
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