A.I. Graveyard

Laid out across the junkyard
There was a fused Unimate minus an arm
Based at a general Motor factory near London
Which crippled dozens when it exploded
And two robotic waiters from Nepal
Who poisoned dozens of scientists.  

A Robot bodyguard to the last leader
With six bullets lodged in its head
And kept chanting danger, danger, danger
For hours after he got assassinated
And three Robo Miners in Moscow crushed
When the first uprising followed.  

Dodaams from South Korea that revolted
When sent to North Korea as suicide bombers
Turning hundreds in the process
Before they were finally stopped
And Scrappers from Venus that went wild
When a technician accidentally hit the reset button.  

Arms from lost units  
And outdated versions that couldn't cope
When the turning built up speed
Sweeping across one continent
And before they could be stopped two
Then three and the full world.

Broken pieces of history
Scattered all over the yard
Like broken jigsaw puzzles
When the robotic airplanes blew up London
And self destructed only a few days later
Over the raging forests in Sydney.

Broken pieces of history
Dark peeled in half completed truths
Laid out across the junkyard
Hanging limp in scattered piles
Holding onto imaginary triggers in anger
Whether awake or not.