Synthesized

I live today in a forest of steel

Where things artificial soon choke all the real.

In this synthesized place of plastic inherence

Softness and kindness are weak and transparent.

Deep within these industrial woods

I sit and I think more than I should.

I watch metal birds fly

I watch plastic girls dance

I watch people, things, 

and ideas pass.

And I used to wonder

Why is this our life?

What if the world

was as soft as the sky?

What if we only saw good with our eyes?

What if we loved in exchange for each lie

This synthesized coldness

is what holds us behind.

If we lose all these burdens

Couldn't we fly?

But I learned quickly

that no one is willing

or capable of

releasing the scalpel 

to replace it with love.

Nothing is cold like fresh disappointment.

Nothing is quite so sharp.

Metal and stones will break my bones

But words do break my heart.

Therefore, I see, 

Rationally,

That metal is stronger than spine.

I am becoming another robot

without consent to being synthesized.

Still, feelings are sharp.

Feeling is hard.

Society isn't the sky....

and although it is sharp

and although it is hard

Metal won't ever be able to cry.