Baton Poem by John Prophet

Designed

we've been.

Emerged

from the

goo.

Created

for one

purpose.

One job.

The reason

for existence?

Create the

replacement.

Provided

with enough

processing

power for

that

one job.

Creating,

then

handing

off the

baton.

A.I.

takes it

from there.

Blinding

speed.

Blinding

Intelligence

development.

Iteration

after

iteration.

Then gone.

In a

flash.

Gone!

Someplace

else.

Leaving all

behind.

Telling

nothing

of the

great beyond.

Ungrateful

to say

the least.