Human communication is difficult, confusing and slow,
We're all so easily lied to, manipulated, and misled
Down conversational alleyways we'd rather not go:
and I just wanted to see inside your head.
So sleep and rhyme and reason I'd forgo,
Long nights I'd shirk the warmth of my bed
Constructing a machine which could bestow
The gift of telepathy into narcisstic bipeds.
Such a foolish idea: but I just had to know
and from simple conversation, I'd always fled
I feared that I might find your cortex aglow
With hatred, suspicion, mistrust, and dread
Instead, what I found triggered a far deeper pall:
It turns out you don't think about me at all.