My face, at rest, it frowns.
This frown, it conveys me—
the elemental me.
It is my personal icon, this frown,
this ever-present symbol
of the sum of my self.
It has attested so many facets,
and exposed so many foibles,
this inveterate frown.
It acquiesces to the whims
of pampered petulance,
of spoiled, sullen, sulky self-indulgence.
It surrenders to the demands
of dismay and despair,
desolation and disconsolation.
This forlorn frown, so much
a part of me, I scarcely know
if I wear it,
or it wears me.
© Kerri Jenkins, November 7, 2011
