Wee.

Sparks, sparks, and plastic parts

My lust for luster, found

Glass, brass, and metal hearts

Robots all around

One and two and three and four

Shiny, smooth and cold

Five and six and seven more

All from my own mold

An army of chrome, all to me

They stand in row, so still

But woe is thee, they’re not for free

for dreams they will fulfill

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