Smiles Poem by Joan Hart

I do not understand, I cannot see the appeal
In what you settle for

Like a smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes
There’s something missing
A warmth
It’s not genuine -
It does not belong

A true smile is more rare,
A gift
But there is no substitute
It is not forced, it just simply
Is.

Your smile
Is deceptive
Its blank curve dumbly sits and stares at the world
You keep it on a shelf, for easy access
You think you fool us -
You feel powerful

I wish I could convey my fear
Of what will become of you
Of that day when you can longer conceive
A genuine expression
From your tired, beaten lips

You’ll warily pick up that sad smile from the shelf
And settle, settle, settle
A routine you will numbly grow accustomed to,
A handicap
For life.