I see through your atoms.
I collect data on your likes
and engage in tactical warfare.
I dedicate my hours to spotting weakness,
then hop-jump-skip over them.
I crawl at the feet of great folks
who approach the world at full.
I become inspired.
Anti-protons and protons.
Nuclear particles that make up
the billions of thoughtful questions I have,
all without a voice.
Or an answer.
I exist in something like a game
but I never learned the rules.
I hopped scotch because its all I know.
I fight against the gravity that I create
and instead I choose to orbit
small moons and elegant stars.  
I crash into lakebeds
and leave everything dead and gone.
I am Man,
or at least some guy,
and that’s a good enough title for me.