Sometimes, when I,
Attempt to talk to others,
It can seem like,
AI is on the rise.
AI,
Artificial interactions,
Superficial,
Never gaining traction.
What’s the point,
Of such forgettable discourse?
Small talk,
Exceptionally bores.
The same simple assortment of questions,
Like I’m being read a script.
I leave the conversation,
My desire to connect stripped.
Yet you have to jump the hurdle,
To have a genuine connection,
But sometimes,
These artificial interactions,
Make me wish that I were,
An AI.