The Clockwork Girl

She is the clockwork girl.
Crafted by your imagination.
Every morning round about 3
A creature comes to turn her key,
And she springs into action.
Her metal limbs go click,
Her little heart goes tick,
Her springs recoil
Her boiler boils.
The clockwork girl is ready for clock work.

All about the day she goes about the day.
Sings, eats, speaks and makes you feel.
Pours, digs, bends Iron bars for you.
She does not feel or need to heal,
She does not hear the things you say,
She does not sleep, she does not pray.

The shadows lengthen,
The key turns slower,
Slower,
Slower,
But in the moments before the end,
Before the program runs again,
She dreams.