But there is this wonderful guy,
They call him simply, AI,
Who finds what I cannot remember,
In a cloud lightning sky.

From the top of my noodle,
All I have to do is Google,
And my memory returns,
Like a 100 meter boondoggle.

The good part of forget,
There is no moral regret.
My morality is wiped clean,
Beginning again with a gleam.

With no moral worry,
I am not eager to hurry,
And blame others,
For how they are blurry.

In fact, I find truth,
In rebirth of youth,
Returning to my childhood,
Innocence, not uncouth.