It’s not enough now for my words to be written
They must be pretty, and witty, and bright.
The words themselves matter less each day
With each reblog, retweet and like.

It’s not enough now for my words to have meaning
They must be relatable, heart-wrenching and fierce.
The words themselves are being lost
With each glance, dismissal and worse.

It’s not enough now for my words to mean something
They must be have rhythm, or rhyme, and more.
The words themselves are unimportant
With that truth I take flight and soar.