The algorithms know us better now than we
Know our own neighbors through the manufactured walls,
While climate refugees crowd embassy halls
And currencies collapse in bytes set free.
The old order frays—no center left to hold—
As water wars replace the oil campaigns,
And AI harvests data like acid rains
That corrode what democracy we sold.
Yet somewhere gardens grow on rooftops still,
And strangers share their bread when systems fail,
The young build networks that the old can’t kill,
And truth persists beneath the sponsored tale.
We stand at crossroads, weary, halfway through—
Part dystopia, part dream we might renew.