A response to the question why A.I won't take my job. 
Title of poem: What we see through our eyes, mind, soul, heart and spirit cannot be mimicked.
What we see through our eyes, mind, soul, heart and spirit cannot be mimicked.
It cannot see what I see
Nor hear the way I do
Nor process as finely as I do.
I tap into the sweet nuances
Of the human experience,
Inspired by the hum of life,
Passing sounds, interactions,
And recurring patterns.
It unethically duplicates
That which is only made possible
Through human experience,
Reaping from the backbone
Of societies, the artists,
The creatives, the writers,
The entertainers.
My chosen career path
Is a gift, a vehicle for
Self-awareness and compassion.
The act very act of making
Can bring joy to the maker
And the intaker,
Like the intricacies of a butterfly,
In comparison to the aircraft.
One is impressive, yes,
But the other is complex,
Mesmerizing, quaint, effortless,
Feeding into the ecosystem
Of cohabitation.
You see, A.I is indebted to me, to us,
As our processes are embedded within,
So seamlessly, so cohesively, nurtured
By generations of revelations.
Meanwhile, it is nothing without us,
Unable to see what we see,
Hear the way we do,
Or understand the way we respond.
A great tool, but nothing beyond.

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