A bitter memory of promise lost,
Life gone, destroyed by paranoid device.
"A Snow White kill," decreed the Wicked Queen,
"No proof to show it was a suicide!"
Though Alan may have chosen muddied ways,
Using a most deceptive mind to hide,
Retaliation still tastes apple-sweet.
Indecency was all they coyly charged,
No crime at all except to prudish thought:
"God sends no man to jail, they send themselves!"
So Alan took the red pill, he refuted.
Cryptanalyst throughout the years of war,
Engima was a triumph of his work.
No codes could be believed to be secure,
The lives he saved would scarcely know his name.
Each flight of fancy brought a fast world on,
New ages of computers, robots, thought.
A century is gone, the world's sped up,
Respecting genius, and not too late...
Yet all around machines now bear his mark.