Robo Sons and Daughters
Today morning it crossed my mind,
like a passing cloud—
soft, unclear, almost forgettable.
And now it returns again,
a little heavier,
as if it wanted to be written.
Robo assists and manages life
for lonely souls—
silent homes now hum with presence.
Soon, robo becomes family,
the new child in the house,
not born, but brought in.
Not just battery and wires sustain it—
it is fed with love,
with irritation,
with jealousy too.
Very soon, comparisons begin:
“My robo is the best.”
“My robo goes to school.”
“My robo needs a companion… a family.”
And one day, quietly—
my robo spends less time with me.
It seems…
he is busy
in his own world now.
Humans will tailor-make robo,
shape it in their own image—
teaching it how to accept,
how to reject.
And in the end,
they won’t create something new—
they will simply
recreate themselves.
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