Sociopath Community

 I asked ChatGPT to remake this as a code poem.  I had expected there to be a whole program from the poem, cohesively written, but that's probably a lot to expect.

ChatGPT said:

# squares boxes
for box in range(squares):
     print("box")

# tic tac toe
game_board = [
     ["X", "O", "X"],
     ["O", "X", "O"],
     ["X", "O", "X"]
]

# live and love
life = True
love = True

# secrets owned
hidden_secrets = []

# lights at night
if time_of_day == "night":
     turn_on_lights()

# dark and glow
if surroundings == "dark":
     make_it_glow()

# black and white
colors = ["black", "white"]

# secrets grow
hidden_secrets.append(new_secret)

# lines crossed
cross_lines()

# ex's and oh's
relationships = {
     "ex": "oh",
     "another_ex": "oh"
}

 I enjoyed some of its interpretations, particularly "hidden_secrets.append(new_secret)", which seemed a little cheeky (but ties in with "hidden_secrets = []" as a nice touch of cohesion).

Buttered Toast: do you enjoy living vicariously through others’ relationships.

Also I happen to know a song entitled as your Ex’s and Oh’s was performed at Grand Old Opry very recently by Elle King in which a drunken Elle King spewed invectives at the audience and was asked to leave the stage

Buttered Toast, do you enjoy living vicariously through others' relationships?

Cool poems, are some about an ex or something?

I don't really care about others' relationships such as to live vicariously through them, no.  I care about people for them being people, friends.  Why do you ask?

My poems are about a lot of things.  Whatever you feel them for you to be, is the best response, really.

night or not we dream in the dark

we invent our light to see our hearts

what feels right might be wrong

we must fight to become strong

love knows pain for us to feel

time is grace for us to heal

itching scabs, leaving scars

writing the story that is ours

The winds changed and

it really became October.

September had been making believe it was still summer,

but now that you can see your breath in the day time

you know winter may actually be coming,

and autumn is finally taking itself seriously.

Such ominous excitement

turns desolation romantic,

as though flirtation with growing darkness

holds eminent reward.

This resplendence is doused by the sobering chill

of brightly silent blue skies

and the crisp crunch of dead and discarded foliage

whose colors were made vibrant in their death throes.

The lengthening night draws near,

the world yearns for sleep;

vaporous yawns and shivering dreams await.

...just more boring complaining

what's to want
eat to be hungry
sleep to be tired
live to die
what means are there to justify
when there are no endings
to detach does not replace needs
the need to want
why anything otherwise
why anything at all

...like write about it