Where do you want to be in five years’ time?
They ask. But they don’t want to know the truth.
Because I’d rather be walking naked
Down the streets of this town,
Than sharing my deepest desires,
My passions and dreams,
With some people I’ve known for five minutes.
And are they just (suit and tie) carapaces,
With only a twenty percent chance
Of having a human not a robot inside.
So I give them what they want
I smile sweetly,
A real, sickening, saccharine grin,
And show them (like all good robots) my conformity!
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.