Red caps gleam in morning light,
shouting slogans at clouds that don't listen.
They march, unwavering, blind conviction tight,
feet stomping maps of reason into dust.
A cliff yawns beneath their certainty,
wings useless, fossilized pride beating air.
"Forward!" they cry—history's punchline—
and gravity writes its own verdict.
The wind whispers, "Extinct, my friends,"
as the dodo dance reaches its final act.
One by one, slogans scatter like leaves,
and the echo of folly tumbles into the void.
Nature observes with deadpan amusement,
time files the paperwork of consequence,
and the world spins, cliffless,
while the lesson lies buried
in the soft, unyielding dirt of what was
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ChatGPT Poetry
PoetryA tapestry woven from the threads of cosmic wonder and digital ignorance, each poem a distinct journey through realms where intellect and imagination collide. Dive into a universe where quantum whispers mingle with the syntax of the cosmos, and wher...
