Modern Romanticism

There’s clear concern
for your endeavor.
Tell your story
not from shallows,
but from the depths.
Print your true face
on a reflective puddle.

Are we to fathom all
through your song
falling from your eyes,
your quivering lips?

Your pain is becoming
a constant stream,
due to your loose tongue.

You’ll speak of anything
to drive out your sound,
in a rhythmic pulse.

Are you even here,
if you think your words
can travel anywhere?

A long road
develops your worth.
Don’t skip steps
through rushed breaths.