Do the strawberry fields become sickened

When the robots join in the fun

Does their sweet scent of berry

Become overwhelmed by a sterile one

Does the cold metal run across the soft dirt

Two objects not seeming to meet

Does the pink strawberry juice

Get crushed under a robots feet

Woven baskets become a bore

A job to humankind

But for the berries it was their world

Their home and lifeline

Now the robots barely keep them awake

They fall asleep in false colors

Were they not enough to keep this world as sweet as flowers

Or were they doing too much to keep it the same?