Notes About The Poem
Sometimes what we see is not the truth.
Sometimes a smudged drawing shows the truth.
Drawn On a Stained Page
It’s drawn on the back of a stained notepad ,
On a brown worn, torn paper leaf,
It’s drawn in pencil, that’d broken in half,
Showing the pain, the trouble and grief,
Showing years of tired hurt wounds,
Pushing out from the fear,
This drawing of what she owns inside her mind,
Smudged to vague, makes it clear,
That her smile is a vending machine,
A fabricated forgery, a fake,
Sent to conceal her pain away from the robots,
It hides her dazed blind ache,
And still, she paints her lips to a smile,
She paints to hide the sad,
The sad that can only be seen when it’s drawn,
All over the back of a pad.
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