3

17 3 1
                                        

I feel nothing
And everything
At the same momentum

They use me
They talk at me
They demonstrate to me,
That I am worthless

Once a prized possession
Easily a discarded chip
Never to be used because I lack space,
A space that was already predetermined.
I have no control over that
Is it my fault? Or is it there's?
Who's to blame in this game.

I will never see the results| discarded.
They create new models| forgotten.
Enjoy the fruits of my labor| rejected.

For I am a failed Prototype, Prototype #256.

Failed Prototype #256Unde poveștirile trăiesc. Descoperă acum