Painted Smiles
I look at his face,
A smile so perfect, that’s painted.
His heart beats at such pace:
Behind the facade, a person so tainted.
His memories crying,
Tears flowing like the monsoon rain.
Looking out the tinted windows,
Hiding all the inner pain.
His breathing slowing softly,
His lungs compressed,
His scars that showed upon,
Only when he was half undressed.
He didn’t see the point in living no more,
Himself he wanted to unalive,
These days slowly running out,
The calendar filling in with more strikes.
It was on December Fifteenth,
When he decided he was done.
Running away from those people,
Now away from life he shall run.
