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Tuesday, September 21, 2004
the face whose. . .
the face whose
lines lined with petals
of liken to flower
whose mouth mouths
words with most meaningful
thought worn best with
mind-mannered interest
letting out them from within
the deepest sanctum of their
doors inbred inside their ribs
where the heart collapses a beat
upon a bleeding need
this face whose place always
is askew with smiles lightening
upon the shadows hiding deep
in the darkened
wasn't touched with the finer
judge saying, "i am happy"
today
realizing, a man such as i am
looked upon this teacher's displace
thinking, "when those who are happy
aren't happy
it hurts
"for those who are happy, despite
the underwhelming pull-down of this world
in truest form are stronger-willed
than i could ever hope to find."
so let us,
good actors in the face of fate
wear happiness that shines
even though deeper within
the curtain pall of our minds
emanciated feebles
beat bruises and make us see
the unfair crime
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