Broken Machines

It's so hard for us to operate.

We're broken machines.

There must be a kink in our wires,

or rust in our rings.

 

Tarnished metal and bent-up parts.

You're my tin man

and I'm your tin girl.

We're just looking for our hearts.

 

Your love is either too hot,

like steaming, red metal,

or too cold to the touch,

but you're still my tea kettle.

 

More harm than good has been

done to our frames,

but no sword was ever made sharp

without a hammer and hot flames.

 

My coding goes haywire at times,

and your sensors aren't fully functional.

It's hard having glitchy,

robotic minds.

 

But please promise me

you won't run out of steam.

Let's keep chugging along

as a blacksmith team.

 

Perfecting our alloys

and working out the kinks,

because one day we'll fix the signals,

and be so in-sync.

 

Forgive me my imperfections,

and I'll sand you down.

Let's keep our engines chugging,

'til our hearts are found.

 

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