There may come a time
when some people have things others don't,
yet somehow,
those things can still work for them.
A time when thought
is no longer just thought,
but a way of reaching
the things around us.
When value moves
without waiting,
and the mark of who we are
becomes something we carry closer.
The world may become so connected
that we barely notice
the invisible threads
holding everything together.
And maybe, somewhere along the way,
we will build something so intelligent
that we stop asking it questions.
We simply let it think for us.
And perhaps,
that will be the moment
we stop and ask ourselves:
What exactly makes us human?
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Author:
Ezekiel Olayemi (
Offline) - Published: August 7th, 2026 08:16
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: A.N.

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