I sit here writing
Writing the life, truth
of many
I am alive
Though
I am a machine
My stupid self
keeps forgetting
That there
is no life
for me
outside
of my programming
I live to
serve the
greed,
nessecity,
perfection
of another
Beacuase
They were the faliure
And now as I walked unto this earth
They decided it was had to be me
To make things right
To be the perfect child
To be the one who was
perfect
Painfully Perfect
I write to know
if I can have an unperfect life
But, wait
I forgot
It already
Is
