Robota (the Slave)

I'm cold,
Cuz I don’t feel the pain
Misery
Of hatred and hysteria
From atrocious despairs 
That screams and aren’t heard
And let loose in this vast silent
Distressed by voices which lack love or sweetness.

I am nothing if not a lot of circuits
Erased all my rights,
Right to be loved
Right to be respected
Right to suffer or go crazy
Or right to get hurt
After years and years to follow,
Orders that don’t like
And gave me false emotions
And that doesn’t make me feel.

Here in my claws, I bring

This red flower.
It is the heart that I already haven’t got,
The freedom I was taken,
The voice became indecipherable,
And my true love affable.

For them, I’m nothing but a mere "object"
Toy that they use, disproportionately,
Only, for they escape their problems.
I am nothing more than a refuge for their weak
For those who gloomed for losing
Why take away the power,
Power that was taken from me suddenly ...
To be who I really am

Without having to deal with their ambition
Pride, or lack of common sense
These people who want more
that they neither can have,
If you disrespect those who really are "weaker" than you.