The Gears Turn

Misconstructed from leftover, faulty pieces

Discontinued cogs and gears to make up my being

Left in a warehouse to grind myself into dust

Singing slowly, I work myself to insanity

Mechanical clanging is the sound of my heart still beating

Wires exposed to the elements year after year

Becoming more and more frayed, the wood decaying

While rust grows on my body

I work continuously, though I know it's for nothing

Waiting for the day when the people come back again

When the air is filled with the sounds of laughter

Sunbeams on my face while I watch life stop

Something so bittersweet hangs in the air

As the gears turn, but the world does not