I see you
smile
But the
smile is not in your eyes
The clasp
of your hand cold and clammy
Your gaze
distant and dreary
And your
eyes! Cold, dead, unfeeling unseeing
Like the
eyes of a fish
Your
dimples
Once dinky
delight of many onyxes past
Like the
puckered sulk of citrus sucked dry
O! Sombre
sojourner
Where has
your journey been?
What
miserable fortune has been your lot
That your
visage so grievously be?
A deathly
mask you wear
Of dashed
hopes and dreams lost
Of funeral
pyres and loves lost
Of great
waves crashing but upon treacherous beaches
Totems of
forlorn travels borne on your countenance
Like
tear-soaked medals unloved, unwanted
Life must
go on alas you say
Your hand
wet and clammy
Reached out
like grimly wooden visors
Your ivory
set white yet gritty
Testy
founts of sass, impertinent scissors
Offers of
lachrymose they are
Yes, I see
you smile
But the
smile is not in your eyes
Hmmmm
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