ro*bot(any)

this is not the garden
for the bible tells me so
rains don't always fall
on the plants that need it most

some roots are showing through the cracked clay
some leaves are pale from excess
i fight my neighbors over runoff
but someday i'll be planted by the stream

when my angers all but won
when my ends all come undone
i don't fall apart- i don't fall apart
'cause i'm wrapped up in the arms that gave the blood

all my days of strength
were a patronizing ruse
all the weights i bore
had been hollowed and reused

now this trunk collects inventions
weighing more than all their parts
born to frighten my supporters
who fold their chairs now, and depart

when my angers all but won
when my ends all come undone
i don't fall apart. no, i don't fall apart
i am wrapped up in the arms that gave the blood

i'm so tired of sifting through these broken pieces
searching for good with bloody hands

tighten our rust belts

what does rust say about humanity?

bubbling up under paint and clear coat; enabled by salt.
drudgingly it is compromising once immortal structures. the metal aches.
the malignance of progress.
the inevitability of corruption.

we are dictated by progress. our prosthetic topography raises with our ambitions.
we project our own destiny on that of our infrastructure.

chemical changes deface our manufactured destinies.
what once was sterile and shiny or vibrantly colored now turns a reddish-brown resembling the clay that it was intended to defy.

what does rust foreshadow for humanity?