Steampunk gears,
Shift and grind,
Trying to read,
Through my mind.

The bolts in my knees,
Scratch a bunch.
My creator turns the key
With a hunch.

It's just as he
Expected,
Though hasn't
Yet corrected.

I have a few screws
Loose in my head.
Lucky for me,
I am not yet dead.

Automatons live
In immortal agony,
Until their maker stops
And fixes everything.

I sleep with clocks
In my eyes.
The dreams I have
Aren't a surprise.

Nightmares of monster,
Crawling deep inside,
Clawing at my bones,
And my metallic hide.

I shouldn't be afraid,
These creatures are not real.
But neither is my mind;
A complete iron deal.