Empty Art – (A Poem)

Humanity, the essence of art
The heart, the mind, the soul
Endowed with the gift of creation
By the original of all creators

Now, new mechanical wonders
Of an age of innovation
Have taken on the same role
But in heartless, empty fashion

For machines cannot feel
Never cry of sorrow
Nor laugh with joy
Their voice hollow, void

At their best, they are a tool
To assist the mortal kind
In building something special
A masterpiece design