PINNOCHIO's FATE
.
Come to think of it, I'm not even original
My words are borrowed, my thoughts - oh dear, all recycled !
My pain , my pleasure: cleverly programmed, groomed, and taught
In a temporal 3D container, neatly sealed and caught
Then just to be sure, I was given a self-centered mind
Completed with narrow tunnel-vision, just as good as blind
And in this mode, I was set out to sail the globe
Somewhere a gigantic wheel keeps turning,
ever tightening the rope
...
If I had been given wings, I'd have long flown away
My wooden legs had left me ... stranded right here on clay
The only move I can do now is imagination !
... After all my inscrutable maker did have some compassion
...
Thank you Father
... for the priceless gift.
.
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