As I look around my comfortable prison,
I see my reflection in Sony’s single glass eye.
It’s dark and lifeless as he rests,
Waiting for his ward to point,
To burst into a technicolour song and dance
For the blank eyed audiences gormless pleasure.

I tense at the approaching vibrations,
The feline padding of tiny furred feet.
Rubbing against my legs, the vindictive threat
And intentions t...

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