omnes nos machinis

omnes nos machinis. 
we are all machines. 

whether we want to admit it or not, 
we are all machinges, 
grinding away day to day, 
cogs spinning, 
gears whirring, 
keeping us breathing, 
breathing, 
breathing. 

we are all machines. 

we try and we try to 
keep ourselves upright, 
for as long as we can, 
but even machines fail, 
our hearts skip a beat, 
and we beat a hasty retreat, 
trying to recode the instructions of our genes, 

we are all machines. 

machines break and they fall,
and they work and they crawl, 
they keep trying to fly 
save themselves from the fall, 
building others like themselves 
and looking among the stars 
for other gears and cogs like us, 

we are all machines. 

we bleed motor oil 
and harsh salty tears, 
when out skin breaks, 
our back breaks, 
we patch ourselves up with spare parts, 
taking one from another so we can survive, 

we are all machines. 

we wage wars and we get
beaten down in the dirt 
and we watch as the bullets cut 
each other down, but when 
we see a loved one in danger, 
our kinfolk in danger, 
we step in front of the bullet, 
we break the code of survival, 
we break the very thing 
embedded in our dreams, 

we might not be machines. 

because we are similar
to the computers we build, 
but we are not the same, 
because we get confused, 
and we love, 
and get angry, 
and we cry, 
and we look at the stars 
and we wish and we hope. 

we are not machines. 

people are people, 
and out genes, 
despite what we think, 
are not 
in(defeat; ab;e) co^de, 
beautiful people, 
who go against the common role, 
they think and they make 
these beutiful things, 
not factory branded, 
and we dream and we dream, 
and we repeat this chant, 
like a prayer, 
like a savior, 

non sumus machinis. 
we are not machines.