Google Bard takes on James Cleverly

[xxlshirts_fit_all]

A Call for Respect


In halls of power, where voices rise,A careless phrase, a hurtful guise,"Stockton north," a "**** hole," so he said,A barb that stung, a heart that bled.


But hold, Mr. James, before you speak,Remember words can wound, can leave their mark.A place called home, to some it's dear,A place of pride, a place to hold so near.


For every corner, every street,There's stories untold, lives to meet.The heart of Stockton, strong and true,A place where lives unfold and dreams accrue.


So let us pause, before we cast,A judgment harsh, a shadow cast.For words can build, or words can tear,And every soul deserves a gentler care.


In Stockton north, as everywhere,Kindness matters, compassion's air.Let's lift each other, hand in hand,And build a world where words are grand.

 

[atypical_boro]

A Call for Respect


In halls of power, where voices rise,A careless phrase, a hurtful guise,"Stockton north," a "**** hole," so he said,A barb that stung, a heart that bled.


But hold, Mr. James, before you speak,Remember words can wound, can leave their mark.A place called home, to some it's dear,A place of pride, a place to hold so near.


For every corner, every street,There's stories untold, lives to meet.The heart of Stockton, strong and true,A place where lives unfold and dreams accrue.


So let us pause, before we cast,A judgment harsh, a shadow cast.For words can build, or words can tear,And every soul deserves a gentler care.


In Stockton north, as everywhere,Kindness matters, compassion's air.Let's lift each other, hand in hand,And build a world where words are grand.

Awful grammar!

 

[ThePrisoner]

I bite my thumb at you sir.
Forsooth thou art tory scum.

 

[xxlshirts_fit_all]

Awful grammar!

I didn’t write it grandpa

 

[xxlshirts_fit_all]

I bite my thumb at you sir.
Forsooth thou art tory scum.

It wouldn’t let me add Tory scum

 

[atypical_boro]

I didn’t write it grandpa

Didn't say you did.... No need to get emotional on me!

 

[Liamo]

Awful grammar!

What exactly is wrong with the grammar? Some of the imagery and wording is a bit laboured but that's all.

If you're talking about the commas followed by no space and a capital letter, that's because it's a poem and those are actually the separate lines making up each stanza, and should start on a new line. That they don't, is probably an artefact introduced by a copy and paste error.

Properly set out, it should look like this:

In halls of power, where voices rise,
A careless phrase, a hurtful guise,
"Stockton north," a "**** hole," so he said,
A barb that stung, a heart that bled.

But hold, Mr. James, before you speak,
Remember words can wound, can leave their mark.
A place called home, to some it's dear,
A place of pride, a place to hold so near.

For every corner, every street,
There's stories untold, lives to meet.
The heart of Stockton, strong and true,
A place where lives unfold and dreams accrue.

So let us pause, before we cast,
A judgment harsh, a shadow cast.
For words can build, or words can tear,
And every soul deserves a gentler care.

In Stockton north, as everywhere,
Kindness matters, compassion's air.
Let's lift each other, hand in hand,
And build a world where words are grand.

Is that better?

 

[atypical_boro]

What exactly is wrong with the grammar? Some of the imagery and wording is a bit laboured but that's all.

If you're talking about the commas followed by no space and a capital letter, that's because it's a poem and those are actually the separate lines making up each stanza, and should start on a new line. That they don't, is probably an artefact introduced by a copy and paste error.

Properly set out, it should look like this:

In halls of power, where voices rise,
A careless phrase, a hurtful guise,
"Stockton north," a "**** hole," so he said,
A barb that stung, a heart that bled.

But hold, Mr. James, before you speak,
Remember words can wound, can leave their mark.
A place called home, to some it's dear,
A place of pride, a place to hold so near.

For every corner, every street,
There's stories untold, lives to meet.
The heart of Stockton, strong and true,
A place where lives unfold and dreams accrue.

So let us pause, before we cast,
A judgment harsh, a shadow cast.
For words can build, or words can tear,
And every soul deserves a gentler care.

In Stockton north, as everywhere,
Kindness matters, compassion's air.
Let's lift each other, hand in hand,
And build a world where words are grand.

Is that better?

Perfect, thanks!