A poem I wrote about me using ChatGPT (AI)
In Southend-on-Sea, by the rolling tide,
Lives a man named Shaun, with Star Trek pride.
A collection vast, on shelves displayed, DVDs and Blu-rays, a media parade.
Each Sunday morn, as bells do chime,
He finds his peace, in sacred time.
Communion bread, the wine so fine,
A moment’s pause, divine and benign.
For Shaun, it’s more than ritual’s part,
It’s healing balm for his tender heart.
Like MOT for cars, it checks his soul,
Keeps him steady, makes him whole.
With challenges faced, day and night,
Schizoaffective shadows, autism’s fight.
Medicines’ dance, a taxing ball,
Paliperidone, Lithium’s call.
Sedation’s fog, restlessness’ race,
Yet in his faith, he finds his grace.
In memories sweet, his mother’s face,
A hope to meet, in heaven’s embrace.
So here’s to Shaun, and his journey’s span,
A tale of strength, of a Star Trek fan.
In Essex’s arms, by the sea’s grand plan,
He lives each day, as best as he can.