I am ordered all times.
Anything I do on my own
turns blasphemous.
It is servitude at the most.
Obey and go being the
command.
It is how I live
nothing to express
none to display.
You can see in me
a being without life.
Should I become a robot?
Mechanism fails at times
but if I falter, a hue
and a cry follows.
Anticipating a cease,
a shutdown, anytime
Off I fly.
Meenas Poems 