Basketball is my favorite sport,I like to dribble up and down the court,crossing up fools as I go,Then I go up for the fadaway,Swish, nothing but net.Husling back down the court,time to play defence now.A guy's coming at me now,He tries to cross me up,But i'm right their with him the whole time,then he goes up for the shot,I jumped as high as I can,trying to get the block,But it goes over my fingertips and into the net. Now where on offence,time to do it all over again.

What is love?

Upon the stairway of despair, Complete with broken love affairsAnd promises that never came,But faded with a touch of shame,A pretty girl with golden hairAnd innocence so sadly rare,Strove to keep her head aboveA way of life devoid of love.Feeling pinned against Life's wall,She chanced upon a robot tallAnd said, "Please come and share with meWhatever Fate has deemed to be.I'm through with love, done with chancesSpirit crushed by past romances,Just be a friend in word and deed.That's all that I shall ever need.""There's not too much from me to learn,"Remarked the robot, in return."Emotions do not form a partof my cold, solid-steel heart.Whatever maker fashioned meDid not permit my circuitryResponsiveness to love or pain -You're thoughts for me would be in vain.""No matter", spoke the maid. "No moreDo I wish passion to explore.Be someone I can come home toWhen my exhausting day is through.Count yourself a well-worn shoe -A friend that I can slip into . . .Protection from a stone cold floor . . .For this I ask and nothing more."Agreement made, he took her handAnd lived the life that she had planned,Always willing, not demanding,Aiding her with understandingHe made her smile with humorous wit(As his restrictions would permit)And, bit by bit, she came to feelThat he was more than iron and steel."I love you, robot", she at lastReplied when several months had passed."You're strength and quiet dignityHave brought a wondrous change in me.No more do I feel all alone,And pray you must be flesh and bone.Deep-set emotions you MUST feelWithin that outer coat of steel!""If I were able, I would sayI'm sorry I was made this wayBut my design and programmationDoes not provide for that creationOf feelings normal men may feelThat were not born of iron and steel.I told you all this once before.You have no right expecting more.""Go, then!" cried she. "I will not liveBeside a fiend who cannot give!Though I be battered by misuse,Misguided trust and strong abuse,At least the men I chose were realAnd had the power to love and feel.Of all the lovers I recall,You are the cruelest one of all!"The robot, indestructible,Continues freely and at will.Emotionless, apparently,But, bearing closer scrutiny,One can see a small tear streakDown that cold, metallic cheekAs I reflect upon my life . . .That lovely lady was my wife.The robot, of course, was me.