The tired old robot came to rest,
Years of working, left him worn and distressed,
His batteries lacking power, he walked without grace,
The lights dimming, on his dented old face,
Rust makes him brittle, seizing up his hands,
Joints lacking oil, clogged with debris and sand,
His circuit’s burn, as the sparks rattle his brain,
His memory corrupted by electrical rain,
Reaching the end, after all these years,
The robot cries, his battery tears,
Crashing to the ground, falling apart,
As the power slips, from his computerised heart.
There he lay, upon his back,
As the wind covered, his final tracks,
Placed upon the scrapheap, stripped of his parts,
They carefully removed, his memory and heart,
Words read from, the old kindle book,
As they restored his body, with the classic old look,
Wires refreshed, the burning of solder,
Faint light returns, to his classic controller,
One final piece, to power his soul,
The heart replaced, in the mechanical hole,
Twitching fingers, he opened his eyes,
Met with cheer, and emotional cries,
Holding his hand, were Robots restored,
Embracing each other, mechanical applause,
As Light beamed, from behind the seventh,
He spoke..........
"Welcome my son, to robotic heaven"
