-Pride Machine-

I take much pride
in my
showoff machine shop factory,
producing fronts and lies,
great in my own eyes.
I built it on my own
and run it all alone.
My giant iron machine
of molten steel and steam
is a complex mess
of metal beams
and rusted chains
running down to the ground.
Creaking clanking sounds
drown out
the steam leak's hiss,

I wish it ran smooth,
everything in groove.
But I won't get repairs
or ask for more coal.
I'd rather try and pull
the whole weight on my own.
Still the steam leak hisses,

Beams begin bending,
pistons twisting,
belts breaking.
An earsplitting blast
throws shards of glass
mixed with fire and stone.
Giant gears slip from slots
smashing through walls,
finishing the downfall
and final collapse
of my giant iron machine
of molten steel and steam.
Now the junkyard pile
of rubble and debris
lies smoldering quietly.



Chhaya said...

A Very deep meaning hidden in your poem. I read it twice and felt so connected :)

Jamwes said...

Thank you for sharing. I enjoyed reading this poem. I loved the "Tssssss" nice touch.