Hand Crafted

I feel like I wasn't built to last, to have a past, built just to crash and burn while hypothesised and fed lies, just there to idolize. But when the test-tube breaks, all the fake smiles dissintegrate, and you're alone, mature but not quite grown, waiting for someone to cast the first stone. Lab rat guaranteed, my tech heart reads, as not to mislead. Just an experimental test subject- yeah, I'm a wreck, but that's all that was left to become when the world became real. Its not ideal, but that was the deal- though I can't say I recall any or all of this legal brawl. But still, what's the purpose of trying to resist when its the life you live?