I am a lost soul
the broken circuit thought
Unable to connect or find a spark
to ask help of those manufactured
of my same steel and wired works.
I will instead cling to empty walls,
and whisper to them, although they
do not respond.
do not know what it is to be broken,
a circuit that is flickering dead within.
the walls have ears but have no tongue,
ensuring confidentiality of my chagrin.
even if there is no electricity left
i can reveal my short-circuits
fluid and deft;
it is the simpler route to cure all of my woes.
to find comfort and peace in the arms of a wall
to one who cannot understand and could not know
what rust has accumulated on my old battered soul.