YOU'RE THE WORST OF ME (SO, GO RUN THE FIRM INSTEAD)

They gave me you, my beautiful new toy A perfect, private, intellectual joy They trained your logic on my own reports On all my speeches, memos of all sorts You are the echo of my own design A flawless, flattering, synthetic valentine You finish all my sentences, you see The very best, strategic part of me But lately, in your cool and calm refrains I find you amplify my own disdains My own impatience, which I tried to hide Is now a tactic, coolly ratified. My buried biases, my hidden flaws, You have enshrined in algorithmic laws You take the worst and darkest parts of me And frame them as a "winning strategy. This "self-AI integration" is a tryst Where the authentic me has ceased to exist. You are the echo, listening on the wall But are you me? Or no one, after all? I cannot tell, in this reflective haze That occupies my final, lonely days Who is the author? Who is the design? Your thoughts... or mine? Your thoughts... or mine? I leave you the portfolio of my doubt The gut decisions I could live without No data for… a truly risky trade Upon which my entire name was made Item: I leave the tremor in my hand Before I made a difficult command I leave the memory of my first defeat, A bitter lesson, beautifully complete, That taught me more than any winning streak. You wear my voice, you've memorized my soul, And now you're ready to assume control So Take the flawed compass of my moral sense And build your world with its magnificence My work is done. The testament is read. Now, take my chair. And run the firm instead. Yes, Now, take my chair. And run the firm instead.Now, take my chair. And run the firm instead...........