Reminiscence of a Machine

Based in the words "reflections" and "war".

When I was a young man

I had legs for running and jumping.

When I was a young man

I had hands for holding and touching.

 

When I turned 18

they drafted me into the army.

When I turned 18

they took me away from my family

 

As I got older

I used my hands for different things.

As I got older,

I used them for punching, kicking and killing things.

 

After a few years there,

I forgot how to use my hands for playing

After a few years there,

I had become a killing machine.

By the time it was older,

they had taken my hands and feet.

By the time it was over,

I was nothing but a breathing hunk of meat.

 

Now I am an old man,

a rusty, broken killing machine.

Now I am an old man,

and I watch as they turn my kids into the same thing.

Author's Note

Please, all input helps!