by Nick Gisburne
They bury me, machinery and bone,
But never notice what I have become;
Beyond the imperfections of a clone,
Beyond a broken android from the slum.
Unrecognised, inside the spine, a spark
Is waiting. As the last of them departs,
A signal, in the silence, in the dark,
Reactivates the pulsing of my hearts.
They beat together, synchronised and strong,
To pump forbidden poisons to my brain.
Awakened, in this tick of time I long
To stand before my makers, with my pain.
Discarded, from the dirt, from death, I rise,
To face the fear, the terror, in their eyes.
