The Turing Machine Poem by John F. McCullagh

I'm not considered "normal" by policemen on the force.
They apprehended me in public having an*l intercourse.
From early on I've always been attracted to a certain sort of man.
I've tried to be with women but that's not just who I am.

Condemned as an "abnormal", my security clearance lost,
considered an Enigma and somewhat an albatross.
In war I was a hero in the cryptanalytic game.
Now those doors are closed to me and others just the same.

So much I have accomplished, yet much remains undone.
Their chemicals have unmanned me so this capsule on my tongue
Once crushed with bring oblivion with its bitter almond taste.
The destruction of a once great man, will someone rue the waste?