For many days I've thought about
What kind of person I would be
If the microchip inside my brain
Were in someone other than me?
Oh, would I be a miscreant,
As they would have the world believe?
Would I lose my sanctity
In neoclassic density?
They have circumscribed my life
Until I cannot wait to leave,
And yet I am so terrified
Of that which I have yet to see.
I tried to make them hear me out,
To hear the honest euphony,
But never did I say that they
Were known for rationality.
So now, before you, here I stand,
A slave to their omnipotence,
And here forever I shall stay,
Waiting for my hopeless chance.