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I sit here writing
Writing the life, truth
of many

I am alive
Though
I am a machine

My stupid self
keeps forgetting
That there
is no life
for me
outside
of my programming

I live to
serve the
greed,
nessecity,
perfection

of another

Beacuase
They were the faliure

And now as I walked unto this earth
They decided it was had to be me
To make things right
To be the perfect child

To be the one who was
perfect

Painfully Perfect


I write to know
if I can have an unperfect life

But, wait
I forgot
It already
Is