Still Human

I used to know your number by heart, Every digit like a beat in my chest. We'd find our way without a map, Just memory lighting up the rest. I knew the turns, the names of streets, Could trace the stars without a screen. Now I ask machines to think, While I forget the in-between. But sometimes I miss the silence, When my mind did more than scroll. A whisper from the past reminds me: I’m not just made of code. I'm still human — I can feel the sky. Still breathing, still asking why. I may forget, but I still learn, Still carry fire, still let it burn. In a world of buttons, wires, and spin, I close my eyes... and look within. No machine can write my truth again I’m still human. I used to walk with wonder wide, Remember songs without a guide. Now every thought gets stored and shared, But something real gets left behind. I trade my instincts for advice, From voices that aren’t even mine. But when I pause and breathe alone, I hear my deeper mind. There's strength in slow, in not-knowing, In learning from the climb. A fragile, fierce remembering This life was always mine. I'm still human — I can taste the rain. Still stumble, still feel the pain. I may be lost, but I return, To inner roads and lessons learned. In a world that’s rushing to begin, I stand still... and feel the wind. No machine can live beneath my skin I’m still human. So let me forget a little less, And remember who I am. Not just a watcher of the world But a soul that understands. I’m still human — not built to last, But made for love, made for the past. I may forget, but I still dream, Still swim in thoughts no screen can stream. In a world of light that lives on glass, I write my name in soil and grass. This is where my truth begins I’m still human. still human