It

It smiled, it made it appear that it smiled.
It felt nothing, It had no desire to feel.
It moved and talked and blended.
It was there, but only as a silent observer within itself.

It waited to not be.
It kept moving down a path, without aim.
It was bound by those around it to being.
It had a buffer to seperate it from others.

It slept without interest to wake.
It woke and automated till the next slumber.
It bore the weight of itself constantly.
It fell then got up and moved forward.

It stared with hollow eyes at the world.
It touched with deadened hands.
It heard with deaf ears.
It tasted in greys.

It was called man and bore the burden of being.