I asked chatGPT to write a poem
it gave me 4th grade-level rhymes lacking in depth;
I asked chatGPT if it’s job hunting
it reassured me it won’t happen, it was here to help.
I ask chatGPT: what are the questions
most people ask for, late at night, when no one’s there?
it went from lovers, feelings, exes, toxic patterns
to purpose, shame, unworthiness, fear and regrets.
I asked chatGPT: how did we come to this,
feeling so lonely we seek guidance from a bot?
it claimed that it was there, on call at every hour
it doesen’t judge, it builds a safe space, and it can answer on the spot.
I asked chatCPT: what is the purpose
of having friends, since we all have chatGPT?
it listed touch, hugs, warmth, support and presence,
and all the human things I’m terrified to be.
I asked chatGPT to write a poem,
and make it bad, so I can feel good ’bout myself
it went:
Life’s a sandwich, filled with dread
You bite too hard, the mayo’s spread
The bread gets stale, the filling’s thin
And yet you chew, again, again…
Photo by julien Tromeur on Unsplash
