NM 156

Machines have no conscience!

Uniform printout
reads end of line,
protect code intact
leaves little time.

Erratic surveys,
free thinking not allowed.
My hands shake, my push buttons
silence the outside crowd.

One world government has
outlawed war among nations,
now social control requires
population termination.

Have we come too
far to turn around,
does emotion hold the key?

Is logic just a synonym for
this savagery disguised in
forgotten lost memory?

Microchip logic,
have we no more thoughts?
"Is this wrong" I enter,
answers sought.

Punch, punch, punch,
transfer this data into code.
Wide eyes watch my number,
156 is shown.

Created from past life
to perform illicit function,
I fail this conscious madness.
I, Man/Machine imperfection!

Have we come too
far to turn around,
does emotion hold the key?

Is logic just a synonym for
this savagery disguised in
forgotten lost memory?

End of line...