I must be a replicant
You see the way they look
at
Us and our programmed history
Written by them about our
Different skins that makes
Them fear for their own
I must be a replicant
A darkness not classified
Yet considered a threat level midnight
Less human than the other lunch table
They ask me do I even know dreams
A subcategory to a majority
We must be replicants
Always too far
From the idea of ideal
While just close enough
To matching the enemy description
They must be replicants
A mind full of wires and circuits
Devoid of a consciousness
Possessing everything to destroy one
Sitting at this bar playing a NBA championship
I ask the bartender
Can people have empathy for replicants?
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