How can something smooth and sleek
Get along with bumbling sacks of meat?
How can a perfect brain child reach
That place where we ourselves can’t breach?

We fuel our heads with many stories
From the pleasant to the gory
And look at things with a hungry eye
Oh, the world that can be spied
Not here not now but somewhere far
Utopia beckons like a star.

They’ll open heads and peer inside
To see where pesky flaws do hide
They’ll squish them in a microscope
And tie the savage with a rope

If we find what we’ve always feared
A wild future quickly neared
Will we cease to be ourselves?
Like old toys placed on dusty shelves?

In a need to build a better being
Smart ones labor in full swing
Watching what they know and see
And what they hope to bring to be
A creature immune to death, so sweet
In which hate is obsolete
A creature free from stupidity
But loyal to the trinity.
Of laws designed to hold it bound
To its masters, weak but sound.

If we become what we create
Will we have a better fate
Than the fragile creatures we tried to stay
Or will our spirit wash away?

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Some scientists and futurists believe we will one day merge with machines, and that this might even alter the human condition.
But what if we become something we never planned to be in the first place? Would cybernetics eat our soul?
This is just a poem/writing exercise and I will probably write more on this in depth later

updated Jun 14 '10 by RachaelRunes