Smile
Falling out from the pit of his sleep,
Robin sits himself up, on the edge of his bed.
Dragging his body to the austere bathroom,
Facing the mirror, blankness just filling his head.
He looks at himself, so tanned and strong.
Out comes his smile, kept in a box on the shelf.
His morning routine remains mundane and consistent,
It means Robin looks great, in peak physical health.
Moving from the house, to his garden
To his car, he passes by the neighbour,
Showing an innocent smile, a wave,
A greeting, a “have a safe journey, commuter.”
He drives to work, he owns it,
The company, I mean. He is the CEO.
The boss of all people, who lives his best life,
entering the building, wearing his successful glow.
He has meetings, and meetings, and meetings,
And chats, and talks, and fleeting conversations,
With no-one in particular, just the people he sees.
Shallow, tame, babble being the primary sensations.
Robin walks through the halls, with no direction,
Successful, almost godlike. A company from nothing,
All to himself, no need for a companion.
Leaving work, the end of the day came rushing.
Robin makes it home, greeted by blank.
He drags himself back to his austere bathroom,
Facing the mirror, blankness just filling his head.
He looks at himself, so tired and BOOM!
It’s gone, he’s just looked. Can’t find it anywhere,
What will he put on tomorrow? Will they care?
He makes a quick one to wear for the days,
But it doesn’t stick, just like the last one.
It’s falling.
Copyright ©
Euan McFee
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