We Aren't Computers

And there they sit
All tidied up and ready to go
They point their pungent little fingers at us
They judge
But they don’t admit

They shout at us
They want us to forget
Forget all the pain
They don’t understand
They never did

They try to make us think different
Maybe it works..
Maybe it lasts..
For a minute
Or two

They have no idea
What it’s like to be us
A daily battle
Deep inside
They will never know

‘This must stop
I’ve got to go
Enough of this!
I am who I am
Sorry counselor’

We come back to ourselves
We always do
Sit on your throne, your fuckin’ highness
Point your fingers and laugh—
They try to reprogram us
It doesn’t work
We aren’t computers

We Aren't Computers

JSchef

Joined November 2010

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