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.
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