Shall I compare thee to a string of digits?
Thou art more personal and more private.
Rough Humphreys doth quiz the Darling on Today,
And Gordon's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too close the eye of Google shines,
And oft is gold from banking accounts skimmed;
And every mother’s maiden name declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed.
But thy perfect database shall not leak
Nor lose possession of that CD they sent;
Nor shall the hacker spam and phish and phreak,
When with eternal ID card thou went,
So long as cars have chips and streets have CCTV,
So long lives your identity, and this gives life to thee.
Sources: BBC News, The Register, Robin Wilton, Into the Machine.
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