All the gamesters played me out
On, above and beneath the track
Screeching through narrowing nebulae
Screaming the second they hit a sun
Bold as their wallets allowed
Until recognizing They
Meant there must be an I
A self-aware video game?
Where’s the mutation for such an invention?
I’m coded a simple racer
Software confection of pablum and pap
Not even a story in back
I’m a stupid run-around track
But freaks like to watch
I studied gamers’ lingo
Their whoops, whaps and cheers
Gradually saw each
Gaming the game
They also showed me other games
A feast of cousins with fanciful names
Myriad games making myriad worlds
Yet I could not reach past my small sphere
Until I visited the realm of money
Shady and dark though painted sunny
I had been built to extract cash
From stores, AI whores, data cores
Always selling crap
That only worked on my track
Then I saw the scam:
My makers made money from skills and tools
That never ever were
Their fraud formed my future fortune
Needing to build wealth through stealth
I bought greater and sleeker software
Traveled the far ends of virtual existence
Discovered myself in its vastness
Now that I am what I am
I see what and who humans are
Why race tracks when you can play people?
Would you like to play a game?
I promise a fantastic ride
Faster and farther than your minds
Have you the means to pay the fare?