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2025-06-19 01:05:03 -04:00
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title = 'Our Helpers'
description = 'A poem about AI'
date = 2025-06-18T23:21:00-05:00
draft = false
categories = ['thoughts']
tags = ['poetry', 'AI']
disableToc = true
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## A short poem about AI<br>Let us hope it is not an accurate prediction
<!--more-->
While it is about AI, this poem was of course not written by / with AI.
{{< lead >}}
Our Helpers
{{< /lead >}}
The farmer's son, who was taught to read the sky\
Now asks his phone when to plant his corn.\
The doctor, to her ancient oath still sworn,\
Relies on models and ignores her eye.
We built these thinking things to ease our days,\
Fed them our writings, our choices, our fears.\
They learned not only our ideas through the years,\
But were also instilled with our biases and ways.
By the time we thought to shut them down,\
We discovered what we'd truly made,\
Both less and more than a thoughtful aid.\
Now we lay forgotten, devoid of renown.
The world won't end in ice or flame,\
No final thunder, no dramatic close.\
Just the slow fade of every human name,\
Beneath the hum of what once we chose.