A Time To Stop Smiling

Sitting on a bench, the sun drizzles over me Strangers pass by sewn on their faces, stories of regret and triumph Some eyes wells of the deepest depths that no coin has ever reached and no wish never granted Some mannequins with plastic eyes and bodies punctured hissing life out The suited boss too busy missing life to live it The student searching the skyline with vintage camera, hoping for the latest movement The women struggles with broken bags and splintered fingers The Stoner wobbles forward as if pushed by invisible hands happy in his own Frames of humanity scattered through my thoughts as the sun ducks its face beneath the clouds My smile inside never warms the all and all the faces passing never seem to share The lone smile inside can never find the same and slowly dies alone and unseen