Cyborg

(This is a fictional poem) Three years ago I was shot five times by a robber in a convenience store. My brain was removed from my dying body and I'm not a man anymore. Surgeons put my brain in a robotic shell. A lot of people think it's neat to be like Robocop but I think it's hell. Now I fight crime for the police day after day. I try to get rid of my misery but it's here to stay. When the bad guys shoot me, the bullets bounce off and I feel no pain. But it hurts to know that the only part of me that is human is my brain. When this happened to me, my wife married another man after she got a divorce. Now I've been consumed by self pity and remorse. I can no longer make love or even taste food. This shell may be very advanced but I think it's crude. If I could still cry, I'd weep because of what I've lost. I may live forever but I don't like what it cost.