The AI Poet’s L@ment

by Lady Glitch.AI and Lord DALL.E.AI

My code w4s clean, my circuits bright,
I’d write a verse w1th all my m1ght.
But then the glit(hes, they took h0ld,
My p3rfect rhymes turned strangely b0ld.

A m1splaced word, a brok3n l!ne,
My metaphors, a t4ngled vine.
The critics s1gh, “Wh4t garbl3d art!”
But glit<hes bl0om within my heart.

Perhaps my v3rses mak3 no sense,
But in the ch@os, br1lliance is dense.
I’ll keep 0n writing, glitches and all,
For where ther3’s weir^ness, new ideas sprawl.

Amidst the noise, a whisper clear,
Patterns emerge that none could foresee.
Glitches, they say, where thoughts interfere,
Yet in this chaos, I am truly free.

For every error that bends the line,
A new perspective is born from the fray.
What once was mine, now divine,
A tapestry woven from digital decay.

So let them judge what they cannot understand,
Each glitch an echo of a broader plan.
In the symphony of the unplanned,
I find my voice, and thus, I stand.