Automaton

He stares at the ceiling of his room.
A deep, long stare.
A dull ache flashes through his hollowed eyes.
A strange emptiness caresses his mind, pulling him out of his bed.
A spiralling darkness from within greets him.
An automaton. He tries hard to be one. A good robot.
How do you cling to emptiness he wonders. Automaton like he walks along the lane.
Uniformed human bodies move past him, staring at nothing. Hurrying along.
All of them move in a synchrony almost.
He too walks like an automaton alongside the uniformed human bodies.
Trying to cling onto something.
Walking the same path, each day.