It Might Be Pigs

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An entire thoughtless
Generation, Gen devo.
Punching buttons to do
Math, to write, to think.
Calculators, Computers
Do everything for us.
The age of thought,
Of philosophy,
Of discovery, dying,
Quicker than we
Grow old; and would like.
Scientists discover
Supposedly “new”
Things, prove and disprove
Pluto; don’t accomplish
Anything. The age
Of man, of thought,
Of intelligence
Is dead. All hail
The age of Artificial
Intelligence. Robots
Already perform
Surgery more precise,
Clean, and dress people.
There are even “sexbots”
For those who choose.
The robot apocalypse
is upon us, or at least
the decline of man.
Every empire has fallen
Throughout history:
Dinosaurs, Rome,
Carthage, Ming, Qing,
Persia, Macedonia,
Britain. The faster
They rose, the faster
They fell. It is simply
Our turn. Maybe
It won’t be robots.
it might be pigs.

Abstract Beauty

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A smile that brightens the darkest souls,
Rain falls but seems to never stop,
Awaiting the sun to shine;
a light that never glows,
Sun never rises but forever sets.
A person so bizarre in such a beautiful way,
Even though she’s gorgeous and its obvious,
So unique but still no one knows her name,
She seems to perfect for her dreams to be crushed.
Love is lonely so her heart beats quiet,
I couldn’t see who she was so I squinted to see clearer,
I never knew the noise she made would echo silent,
Then I noticed it was me in a mirror.