Old Lives

Sometime the old lives rise

From where they lie,


But fully functional:

Scripts we once called ourself

And followed unconsciously,

Ideas we believed

But forgot we believed,

Whose presence

Steers us

On courses

Now obsolete and irrelevant,

The machine trundling on

In a groove set

Years ago,

Thoughts we ceased to see

Guiding us

In the robotic program

Of our walking sleep.

One thought on “Old Lives

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