Mechanical reactions
slither through the cortex,
Binding our beliefs into
a solid jellied mass.

The peons go without a care,
wisdom is not their share,
only to be appeased
in the short term
is their game.

Yet the one who dances freely,
Gracefully fluttering down the walk,
gets stared at and gawked at,
Ridiculed and mocked.

The program
does not recognize the patterns
that are involved,
and the programmers are just too vain
to change the program's
stiff and rigid brain.

So while the programs interact,
the dancer keeps on dancing,
sensibilities in tact.

She notices the patterns,
the snide remarks behind her back,
the stares, the whispers, wonders,
of the program's capacity cap.

How she wishes just one
free person could truly understand
what it's like not to be a robot,
but a compassionate human.

Seas of judgement, seas of motion,
Seas of jealously and hate,
motivated by confusion,
in this altered AI state.

One day there is a person
walking out of sync,
the rest of the people shrink away
from the lone independent freak.

Free thought and new ideas
Are poison to their wires,
new data it can handle,
but independence acts like fire:

Burning through the program
like an arrow with a purpose,
piercing through its hardened heart
rendering the program worthless.

The boy who parted the sea of monotony
found this dancing girl,
and together created a barrier
shattering programs with a twirl.

By the power vested in me,
I command you to think,
Think twice about your actions
or you will find that you will sink
Into a sticky, jellied mass
where your thoughts will cease to think.