An intimate poem about rejecting small talk and craving depth — the kind of conversations that cut through polite pleasantries and reach soul-level truth.
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“Good Morning.”
by Shelly Moore Caron ©️ 2025
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Good morning.
Good morning.
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How are you?
How are you?
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Weather’s nice.
Mm. That’s right.
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Shallow rhetoric.
Hollow. Sick of it.
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Give me depth.
Unwasted breath.
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What do you dream?
What makes you scream?
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Do you lie awake at night?
Are you locked in fight or flight?
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Which song makes you cry?
Are you afraid to die?
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What bleeds your heart?
God, where would I even start…
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What lessons has life taught you?
Which nearly destroyed you?
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Let’s discuss the infinite cosmos-
Like how dead nebulas still glow…
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Which books do you treasure?
What brings you blissful pleasure?
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What brings you to your knees-
Sickens you, makes you weak?
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Your philosophy on life after death?
Do you prefer or Twilight or Macbeth?
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Do you commune with the wind and the trees?
Do you prefer coffee or tea?
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Depth is what this world needs.
Not empty, rhetorical, subtleties.
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We crave value and depth—
Yet we continue wasting our breath
On meaningless, transactional pleasantries.
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