How does it feel to base the blood ink of your pen
Or the cold strokes of your keys on generic automation
To a price paid for imitation,
Nah, not me...
I'm old school, I still write my poems in a notebook...
I bleed purple words from my soul
Created from my own life's torches...
I don't waste the ink of my pen from someone else's poetry or story
I write about me... Where the passion bring glory...through authentic poetry...
How does it feel to be a fake writer
Stealing ideas you didn't master,
Allowing the AI bots to control your thinking...your voice...inhuman spirit
Plagiarizing words secreted from someone else's love story,
How does it feel to be unauthentic,
Unoriginal,
A want to be creator!???
By Shana A. ©️
