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.