Don’t believe the algorithm.

Most humans are still breathtaking.

Watch without the glass between you:

The littles climbing bus stairs,

Backpacks too big,

Grins too wide,

Mothers waving like lighthouse beams.

You can feel the love radiate,

And you’re allowed to borrow some —

A sip, a spark,

Just enough to keep going

For one more day,

Or one more minute.

•

Then breathe.

Let the air scrape your lungs clean.

This is proof you’re still here,

That the world is not all sirens and screens,

That hearts still beat

On suburban streets at 7:45 a.m.

That there is still something

Worth noticing,

Worth saving.

•

Watch the man at the corner store

Push his last dollar across the counter.

The clerk adds coffee to the bag —

No words, just a nod.

It will never make the news,

But you feel the seam inside you

Pull shut,

At least for now.

Love isn’t gone.

It’s hiding in plain sight,

Waiting for anyone

Still awake enough to see it.

•

Then breathe again.

Fill your lungs like you mean it.

Because this is witness —

Mercy is breaking through.

The quiet ones are gathering.

And even here,

Even now,

Life is still louder

Than the algorithm.

•