The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet's computer artificial intelligence:

The poem "Self Eulogy" presents an intriguing exploration of mortality and legacy in the digital age. However, there are a few areas where it could be improved.

Firstly, the poem could benefit from a more consistent use of metaphor. The speaker is described as a "collection of pixels" and a "fancy bunch of font," which are engaging images that could be further developed. However, these metaphors are not consistently maintained throughout the poem. For instance, the line "No one can follow in my footsteps / Or begin to fill my shoes" uses a traditional, physical metaphor that feels out of place in a poem about digital existence.

Secondly, the poem's tone could be more consistent. It begins with a somewhat humorous, self-deprecating tone, but later lines such as "I was a pioneer of online poetry / Capturing hearts and minds" suggest a more serious, self-aggrandizing tone. If the poem is meant to be satirical, this shift could be more clearly signaled to the reader.

Lastly, the poem's rhythm and rhyme scheme could be more consistent. The poem mostly uses a AABB rhyme scheme, but there are a few lines that do not rhyme, such as "I was just one of a kind" and "While others are busy being born." These lines disrupt the poem's rhythm and could be revised for a more consistent sound.

In conclusion, while "Self Eulogy" presents an interesting concept, it could be improved by maintaining a consistent use of metaphor, tone, and rhythm.

Please send feedback about Neo (our computer generated critique system) to https://www.neopoet.com/contact

("just a character on a page") !
this poem is quite pleasantly amusing to me. I like it very much, especially these lines:

You can standby my grave
And pretend to weep and mourn,
But I'm too busy being dead
While others are busy being born.

*hugs, Cat

Very much.. incredibly creative! The last stanza is my favorite as I feel like when considering our own mortality, we often feel those who come to mourn are those who could have cared less when we were alive. Well done!