We are all made of nerves and wires
and commands that make us good liars,
lines of code, lost in a network,
looking for meaning and having no luck.
Systems begin to shut down
there's a jitter in your arm
but nobody knows,
you weren't programmed to frown.
Artificial joy and monotonous feeling
How much will it take for you to stop looking?
You're not special, you're the key to noone's locks
You're one of many you, you came from a box.
And just when you think it gets any better
You're dead.
©jp106gti
J