|Automaton from Hugo Cabret|
Data spins my wheels within. I process your thoughts, and work can begin. I'm not born, but devised with a plan- my pieces and parts are cooled by a fan. My inner workings are very sound, no feelings to race 'round and 'round. I can go anywhere and do anything- nothing inside to lament what I sing. I'm extremely useful when you're in need, but my charge is determined by my energy feed. What am I really? What is it you need? You must ask this question, but always take heed. For, though I'm a part of the world that is here, I have no compassion, and I won't shed a tear.
What am I? Answer: A Machine :)
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Fairday's Riddles: Volume I
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