The Machine

Gears spinning wildly

Steam coming out of pipes

Rattling, Bashing

Clashing and Clanging

The Machine works wildly

Yet all of it in sync

If there’s one small slip

Crash! We’re all sunk

It operates our world

The one that we all live in

We oil it, clean it

Keep all the cogs turning

We tighten all the screws

When the warnings on

Yellow means it’s bad

Red means it’s worse

If all the screws are tight

Then green light shines out

Mechanical arms funnel fuel

Through all the tubes

We are drilling ever deeper

To get more kerosene

We have buckets of ice water

In case it overheats

One day, we all know

A spring or bolt will break

Then everything will break

Everything will stop

And this mad, constant spinning

Will come to an end

When that day comes

We will all die

But by that time

We will be ready

For the final gasping breath

Ready for the end

Of our own Machines.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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