Stories between the lines: A collection of Poems

Painted Smile

The Maw of Fear bites down,

On my sick and frail heart,

I lie on the floor, weeping,

As a cold chill passes through me.

The bell chimes. Time for lessons.

I stand, and walk to the door,

Picking up the scraps of paper

Which are my being,

I sellotape them back on,

And as I walk out, my canvas,

Is once again complete;

You tap me on the back

and I chirp my usual reply;

For lest you know,

This, is a Painted Smile.

P.S. This is an account of a panic attack I had a while back, but I'm good now.