Eyes look towards me,
Flash away, unwilling to stare,
Thinking 'What can this be?
What is that thing right there?'
I see the stares,
But they do go ignored,
Better than the glares,
Of the immorally-moored.
I'm a fake, say some.
A creation, say others.
Abomination, said one.
Words whispered amongst brothers.
I can match them all,
In intellect and power,
But in their graces I fall,
With every growing hour.
I was made, computed,
Created from binary code,
This I have never disputed,
I know what I am, you know.
Feeling no blood flow through me,
Doesn't mean I have no heart to feel,
We're different, but I can never see,
Why these protesters can't deal.
There is something in their blood,
Something that riles them against me,
I am mostly misunderstood,
Without a second glance they just judge.
I long them to understand,
What it's like to be alone,
To have no physical land,
To call a blank screen home.
But no, they cannot ever,
I am different, will be always,
Understanding to be achieved never,
Alone to the end of my days.
Or so I once soundly thought,
And it may once have been right,
But to one I fell, and was caught,
My life, it was changed overnight.
His others treated me as they all do,
But that was only at the very start,
Because they learned their instincts untrue,
Learned I could feel with my digital heart.