My eyes are eyes like yours,
My arms.
My face.
My blood.
All flesh and bones.
Just like everyone else.

But when you get to my heart,
You will see it houses a synthetic soul.

My mind nothing more than,
A cold-blooded machine,
Analyzing,
Organizing,
Expanding.

I bleed red,
As do you.
I feel the wind,
As do you.

But we're not alike,
My flesh is nothing more,
Than a cloak,
Covering my metallic being,
Caged in mortality.