The one-cornered smile,
Filled with half mirth.
No use exaggerating,
Inherited at my birth.
Life can be amusing,
Inducing a little smirk.
Not to get ahead of myself,
I suffer this little quirk.
Half better than some people,
Who wear a broken smile.
Trying to endure some misery,
Reaching far beyond a mile.
Then there are the full mouthers,
Settling into a toothy grin,
Reeking of things hypocritical,
In itself a bad enough sin.
No, give me my one-cornered smile,
And I’ll just take my chances.
It’ll serve its purpose for a while,
According to life’s happenstances.
A poetic analysis of how we use and abuse that muscle meant for joy. Interesting how your presenting of the pic with a smile truly trying to be a smile, not a use of the muscle to accomplish some other desire, e.g., the old "used'car" dealer smile.
Dear readers, this is my third book of poems, and inside are a special collection of what have turned out to be not only MY personal favorites, but also the favorites of many of YOU. Some of these have never been available in print before...
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Love ya!
Jane
I appreciate your poetic style.