Poems

Poorly Upgraded.

So....I got bored. And I've never written something remotely related to sci-fi, so, I thought I would give this a shot. 

POORLY UPGRADED: 

Before the sun has risen fully,

We are locked within gates.

Chained by mere strips of magnets,

We are led to the front of a stage.

There, like clockwork, the procession

Carries itself out with monotone.

After the show of unity, we are

Forced into our little cells made of stone.

Then, the process of life-sucking begins,

With machines fitted upon our heads.

They stick their appendages into our minds,

And attempt to extract out jealousy, rage and hate.

But over long use, these machines are faulty,

And the replacements are poorly upgraded.

Occasionally, you might leave the place intact,

But usually, you merge into the her, muted.

At regular intervals, we are let off,

And in a mere hour, we recover.

We rediscover life and its pleasures;

Try to keep the meaning of life in our minds forever.

But before the logic can take root,

They drag us back into those holes.

This time, the machines inject instructions,

And program us to go with the flow.

Just as the sun disappears,

The gates clang open, and ho! We’re free!

We run our, screaming that we’ll never return,

Which is a lie of course, since this is all on repeat.