precise calibration
By catseyes
You push my buttons, make all my bells and whistles scream. I use to be your dream machine. You programmed me to be your queen. I adored you from behind a Plexi-glass screen Newly defined in industrial green, You gained direct access to my soul. You started me up, then took control switching me on and off. My power drained, became not enough. I was guaranteed to give TLC at rates of 80 RPM s. That s really precious moments gaining speed. Because we agreed to not hurt each other. You automatically feed me insult and unreason. All this horse power yet I am bolted to the ground. Can you hear the sound as my tears ping against steel. I pretend I m not real. I am not real. No battery backup to recharge my love, no UPS to repossess my heart. I m in overload mode, automatic shutdown. Pull the plug, I ve had enough. Written January 8th, 2002 © on Jan 08 2002 11:28 AM PST 0 • 10
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"You push my buttons,..."