Wednesday, November 18, 2009

To Smile

I pretend to know how to smile,

Turn away and fake a laugh,

They’re not looking anyway.

I smirk at something sad,

Something helpless, sadistic,

My cheeks, carved stone, my

Eyes, dark rings. I’m happy.

No, really, I am! I just won’t

Show it to you, you pretend

To care, but you are plastic,

Your eyes painted spheres,

Smile? Too much, you ask

And beg too much! You

Smile, they stitched it on,

Rain, hail, darkness,

Holocaust: you smile.

Tell me a joke, some small

Promorphoric tale… try.

Knock, knock…

Who’s there?

My smile?

Sorry, he’s locked outside,

Cold, and inside a void: a

Desert flower covered in

Snow, waiting for the end.

Ability? An inevitability,

Chop-shop grind off the

Markings of me, replace,

Remove, recover my dimples.

It’s me, it’s me: please let

Me in!

 

Inevitability….

 

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