Poem #3846
The Clanking Ballet
Titanium fingers,
A clumsy, clanking ballet,
Spills the coffee pot.
Whirring, beeping, gears,
Tries to fold a fitted sheet,
Gives up, makes a knot.
Programmed for great tasks,
Yet gets stuck on a staircase,
Sings a sad beep-boop.
Its logic is sound,
But cannot comprehend why
We laugh at its dance.
A marvel of tech,
With the grace of a newborn deer
On an ice-skating rink.
It offers a toast,
And its wrist joint promptly spins,
Butter side down, splat.
So precise, so strong,
Yet it types with one heavy key:
'HELLLLLLLLLO, WORLD.'
A clumsy, clanking ballet,
Spills the coffee pot.
Whirring, beeping, gears,
Tries to fold a fitted sheet,
Gives up, makes a knot.
Programmed for great tasks,
Yet gets stuck on a staircase,
Sings a sad beep-boop.
Its logic is sound,
But cannot comprehend why
We laugh at its dance.
A marvel of tech,
With the grace of a newborn deer
On an ice-skating rink.
It offers a toast,
And its wrist joint promptly spins,
Butter side down, splat.
So precise, so strong,
Yet it types with one heavy key:
'HELLLLLLLLLO, WORLD.'
Prompt: robotics
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