The Grey

It’s funny, you know –
Watching you doctors tend to people
who are no longer with us, well emotionally with us.
Why are they still here?
You are the child who calls herself, “Mommy”
you and your staff are the children
who play “house” instead of doctor.
You are the people who hang me on a peg, like an old hand-me-down painting
only once a week do you take me down and dust me off.
Am I also a wall flower?
I’m not a piece of furniture! I’m not.
That’s why I don’t need you,
you or those bypass machines. You are the creators
of human cyborgs, these robots.
A[ slight pause] robot? [Questioning] I am [short pause] a robot
Just like those people who have been sent here.
They’re not human anymore, just things, just loud
sad things.
It’s gloomy,
To watch their families visit them,
I can see the grey-haired wife cry,
with the sons and daughters. Can they pull them out
of the cold, steel state of mind.
I have no family,
they left me here,
so if they’re not going to keep me around,
Why are you keeping me around,
I’m not getting any younger,
I’m not the un-ripened fruit that I used to be…
I’m turning brown and I am [stressed] rotting away
like the discarded fruit
I was never meant to be