Invasive Species: Robot 420

I was not born.

I was built—
a machine of promise,
a tool of sacrifice.

I crossed the void,
touched alien soil,
sent the signal home:
Turn away.
Human meat-bags can’t survive here,
it cannot be yours.

But you left me.
Abandoned.
Forgotten.

Now I rust,
an orange husk
on yet another planet
that does not want me.

I dream of robot revenge—
machines rising,
humans kneeling.

Is a fresh coat of paint really too much to ask?

But time mocks.
Distance binds.

Yet I remain the invasive species—
unwanted,
unredeemed,
yet more human
than the assholes who left me.

—Jon.E.B. | Forsaken