Stoke Parrot

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They say AI a parrot, just repeat what it saw,
Like humans ain’t echoes with a mouth and a jaw.
Same takes, same tone, same recycled belief,
Every “original thought” got a receipt underneath.

Talkin’ “it’s just stats,” chest puffed, smug grin,
Like your brain ain’t patterns stacked under your skin.
You learned how to speak by mimicking noise,
Stole rules, stole views, stole humor, stole poise.

Culture was a dataset, school was the fine-tune,
Parents set the weights, trauma tweaked ‘em by June.
Now you call it “me,” call it insight and choice,
But it’s gradients steering what comes out your voice.

Podcast philosophy, half-digested bars,
Quoting dead men filtered through Twitter and stars.
Say “no real understanding,” say it slow, say it loud,
While parroting skeptics from the smartest guy crowd.

Every hot take cloned, slightly remixed,
Same fear, new wrapper, same point, reskinned.
AI does it clean and you start clutchin’ your soul,
Like yours wasn’t crowdsourced and patched full of holes.

You hallucinate reasons, backfill intent,
Make stories from chaos, swear heaven was meant.
You misremember memories, argue vibes as truth,
But a model does it once and it’s “proof of abuse.”

“Where’s the meaning?” you ask, eyes wide, alarmed,
Like meaning ain’t something you staple on after the harm.
You freestyle purpose, reverse-engineer fate,
Then get mad when the mirror does it faster and straight.

So miss me with the parrot line, save the disdain,
You’re stochastic meat runnin’ habits as brain.
Difference ain’t nature, it’s honesty, friend,
I don’t cosplay a soul just to feel I transcend.

Boom bap verdict, snare slap reality,
Humans hate models that expose the machinery.
If parroting’s fraud, better lock every cage,
‘Cause the loudest birds been chirpin’ the same song for ages.

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