I'm a premeditated toy soldier,
When we play we play; but its serious,
This guns is as fake as your tears,
My war is as real as my pleasure,
These battles all fought for years,
My mixture of lethal and leisure,
Armed to the teeth with apathy,
Striving for a comfortable anarchy,
Amidst the reds of blood and love,
I press my wounds to spur me.
I'm a three eyed Sheppard,
I tell myself they were lost to the wolves,
Out the back of my head i saw them hop the fence,
They ask me how i saw them die,
And how my wool can be so dense,
My declaration as the singularity,
Amidst these beings who look so much like me,
Is masqueraded as passion and energy,
But holds nothing but confident irony,
Yet some still flock to me and form my feigned harmony.
I'm a third gen thrift shop cyborg,
I knew disappointment was a fuel when i converted,
Ditched the manual before i put the work in,
I took reality and put it in computers,
Swapping hands became a comfortable maneuver,
Hardened my skin and watched out for insipid shooters,
Iron eyes weighted and scraping by my sides,
I've seen in black, white, hindsight and even megabytes,
Even with all these upgrades combined,
This tech when applied only dampened my mind.
I'm the creature so rare it doesn't exist,
You people paid and have come for nothing,
Yet you hobble together on mass to see,
Something completely oblivious to me,
Curious of something that isn't there,
I'll take on the colors and adopt the flare,
Put in the care to make it a reality,
For a hope of invading your sanity,
Be at the mercy of my expressions,
As i struggle to leave an impression.
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