Walking Around

So I finally got the guts to post one of my poems.

Walking Around

It happens I am tired of being a teen
I am pushed into the factory and then to the outside world
Stripped of my feelings, made inhuman like a cardboard box
Being packaged and shipped to shelves across the nation

The sing-song of the gossiping machines makes me scream
I want nothing but to dismember every production line
No more buyer's beware, small print, fine print or side effects

It happens I am tired of my nametag, my wrapper
And my pre-picked box
It happens I am tired of being a teen

All the same it would be lovely
To scare the conveyer belt
Right from its wheels
Or knock away
All wrench clenching hands
To hop off the factory line
Cause a rebellion, total and complete chaos

I do not want to go on
Being a labeled box
Thought to be no deeper
Than a simple label that has been stamped on to me

I do not want to go on
Being a clear cut blue and white
Name tag
Having no feelings no aspirations
No true identity

New models are pushed onto the belt
The old models look on
With stoic faces and building envy
While the factory's employees work hard
To try and form these into mini versions
Of themselves

All their parts are new
Shiny
Bending the fluorescent lights
Blinding the workers
I look on angered
Perfection can neither be bought nor sold

Still I glide along the belt
With rising feelings of doubt
Slow burning of an identity
As the shipping truck approaches
Oil cans drip slow tears into the robots being shipped out

Thanks

I know this was submitted a long time ago, but I would really like to say that this is so amazing! I mean, I really love it.