poetry by j matthew waters

lord of my machines

he took the microphone
and introduced himself
men without souls below him
fists raising and voices cheering
redefining their short-lived lives
chanting ingrained mantras

he convinced them they are
more than mere machines
destined to find praise and glory
long after the killing is done

january two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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2 thoughts on “lord of my machines

  1. but the killing, is it ever done?

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