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As the title suggests a poem about a robotoid, something closer to a man than a mere robot.


Submitted:Feb 3, 2011    Reads: 26    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


A tall, faceless man
Shiny and golden. Robot?
Or some nameless fiend?

A smooth, plastic face
No eyes, no nose, and no mouth,
Shiny, hairless pate.

Cold, heartless being
Manlike, yet so inhuman,
Living, or manmade?

Icy cold fingers
So cold that they sting your flesh,
Shivers run through you.

Strong as a superman
The robotoid could crush steel,
Or a human throat.

A thinking machine
Not mere robot; metal man,
A manmade creature.

Is the robotoid
Good? Or is it pure evil?
Is it amoral?

Perhaps we'll never know
Perhaps he's too cunning,
To let us find out.

Should we trust him? No!
But we can still work with him,
If we take great care!

THE END
© Copyright 2011
Philip Roberts,
Melbourne, Australia





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