The Heart of This Era
By Finlay B
Not everyone really knows us,
We give life to the whirring machines of this era,
We are filled with power, raw power,
Yet we give generously, freely, on demand.
It was when I was freshly made,
New in my jacket, my packet, mint condition,
Dressed in our uniforms of red and black,
My three brothers and I were ready for action.
We were cast aside without a thought,
We were condemned to die in landfill,
To never see through the lens of a camera,
To never capture a beautiful memory.
We would never bring life to music,
The melody flowing out of the radio,
A camera, a radio, without a battery,
A human without a heart.
We were batteries at home in a castle,
The modern age in the past, a paradox it seemed,
We thought it a waste, for we were unique,
He found us, saved us, when our future looked so bleak.
