Little Words Restore Pristine State

Little words the broken hearted heal Little smiles the morose comfort Little deals prime movers seal Little irritations sometimes stray into the fort Where they wreak havoc Instead of sowing care In circumstances where cavok Would minimize the despair Felt in hearts lost in a sea of doubt Sown helter skelter Among slaves to gout who tout Diffidence in a dark shelter Where hope comes to the rescue At the eleventh hour Cutting short a queue where a miscue Attempts to desiccate the flower whose power Restores the pristine state In which hearts smile Serrating hurdles and bundles of blues in a haste To ascertain bliss and peace of mind increase beyond the hundredth mile in style.