I'm understanding RoboCop's heart a little better,
Ever since God decided to be my home's wrecker,
All my basic human abilities seem to be working,
Except for my heart that's shirking,
It's unable to perform it's only function, which is to feel,
Bitterness, seems to be the only way to deal,
With horrible news, especially of death or disease,
Nothing can be worse than the story of my life, which has stopped, with such ease,
My son moves me,
For he made us a family of three,
Other than his toddler antics, my life seems robotic and pointless,
My smiles are joyless,
My brain has corroded,
My heart has eroded,
Just waiting to be strapped into a metal suit,
So that I can shoot,
At will.
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