As the alarm rings — I see it is six,

In shower I sing, then my hair I fix.

Off to the factory, to labour away,

Making the inventory, day after day.

The strawberries ride, along conveyor belt,

I push some aside, for too soft they felt.

I clock out at five, drive back to my home,

Just trying to survive, settle down with a tome.

One day I walk in and I see the note,

It feels like a fork in the ridge of my throat.

A robot replacement, I’m no longer needed,

Accurate shipment, I’ve been superseceded.

I go to the bank, not enough to retire.

My résumé’s rank: too low to rehire.

I miss my rent date, thrown out of my home,

Ain’t tech just great, now forever I’ll roam.