Workshop
This is where we made our tools
This is the bench I sat at
And mended years together
This is the wire I ran
Through the mesh
This is the man I made
In the flesh
Sitting at his desk
Expert at playing piano’s
Deep, heavy keys
In solemn notes
Android of whale oil
Sitting in the dark
With his eerie eyes
Glowing transfixed,
Bare beneath the mask
I made
To cover his wounds
And hide his shame
Consume Reality! 