A whirl of motion,
A lie it is.
Birds make of metal,
Dead, not living. not real.

Fake wings,
Fake eyes,
Fake body,
No soul,
No life.
Metal, no life at all.

They try to make me laugh,
But they fail,
They fall.

All this metal, not life to speak of.
.I can't live with life.

I want a real friend.
But how?

***
If your confused about the ending here's the explanation. I was kind of
out of it when I wrote this. It's basically a take of what if in the
future everything is technological, so advanced that you don't need anyone
or anything other that the technology? Gets you thinking, ne?