Do Robots Dream
Secured into my compartment, power nullified
I stand no longer needed, my files deleted
void are my eyes, no energy in my circuits
tomorrow to be scrapped. My Master has gone.
She was my mother
created me and my sisters and brothers
millions of chrome gleaming robots saving humankind.
No more harsh labor, no more disease, no more corruption
the horn of plenty was bountiful
earth overflowed in milk and honey
people had time to create and enjoy
armies of robots employed.
No more nations, no more religions, no more war
world of peace and wonder
urban and rural combined
people and nature in the second Eden
Powered by the earth's natural flow of electricity.
I see it all yet I am off, shadows randomly blinking
through my dark eyes, visions realized. I see colors, people
places, things all running through an empty brain.
Robots will make the world better, my father was right.
I Louella Shelly will prove this with his prototype
Adam One, the worlds first fully functional mechanical man.
Though A One can move mountains he is programmed
to only serve, to save our earth for us and from us.
No one will ever need or want again.
Our joyous reign begin...Robots ended hunger and poverty
through our computer brains we solved all problems
Cured disease, political disputes
our logic made the world one
Paradise was reborn.
My Master Miss Ella was most beloved. Her vision, her dreams, her heart. I was always by her side, aiding and watching, demonstrating and educating
She worked because she was work, almost robotic.
One day after bringing her her morning coffee
Miss Ella laid her frail white hair head on her desk
All her human vitals had turn off. The world mourned her
but not for long. Divisions arose amongst humans
robots once programmed for healing and labor became armies
of slaughter. Before war ended two thirds of all humans perished.
Human logic blamed only robots who were hunted and destroyed. The world is almost back is before. The age of shinny chrome robots has gone.
I feel my lifeless body being hauled away
Into the metal scrapped yard, I hear an ancient brother
pressing my body into a flat sheet of steel
before my visions go black, as the pressure bends my head
my empty eyes shed a tear. A drop of blood drips upon a
wildflower a single strand of smoke embraces the air.
Daddy do robots dream? My little Louella our Adam One will.
Copyright © Fritz Purdum | Year Posted 2015
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