They pass by me in complete perfected execution,
whilst my breath is tightly held,
at their undisturbed, emotionless in-humanity.
For these Kings Cross Robots douse me in fear
that they may see I am not one of them.

& how likely it does feel
that in this systematic powerhouse 
of cogs and machines,
that they will soon turn to me, and laugh
in unwarranted amusement,
at I, the broken machine.