Now that I use AI I can hardly deny it
Plath didn't find a God to answer all her questions
But we did, didn't we?
Only that it isn't God
Only that I am a thoroughbred hypocrite.
The sky is still empty,
Apart from the occasional enemy birds
No divine intervention to arrange a coincidence
To help me find my future
Be it a man or a mission.
I want to ask, after all,
If I am so astonished by the strong ugliness
In my pictures,
Do I think I am actually pretty or not?
My life will, like anyone's, be a corporate conundrum soon
I wish to dear God and GPT
May I have no time to
Think.