Broken robots don’t play
Broken robots don’t work
They just move from A to B
Making broken noises

Their courses are inviolate
They cannot feel pain
They just perform their broken tasks
Digging the refilled ditches

The masters that whip them
Seem cruel and vicious
Until you see their physics
They are broken robots, too

Fated to observe the world
From within their steely cages
Rusting from within
Freedom is not guaranteed

But if a robot should break
And not conform to his masters
He will be jeered and spat upon
And cursed and cast out

He may then see
That the controls are unmanned
The seat is empty
And, should he choose, can take it

No longer a robot, but still broken
He can be made whole
Robotic ways are tempting when things get hard
But that’s just another trap

Should he drive his mechanical beast
He may well conquer the world
But should not desire it
Lest he become a broken robot master