he carelessly flung
smiles to the room's corners
and didn't ask for them
back. his face was accustomed
to this shape and wrinkly
returned there when
confused or concentrating.
smiling was not contained
to merely happiness for
that boy. as he pulls a
laptop from a beat up
cardboard box and sets
everything up just so,
i'm inclined to ask
'how are you humanly
maintaining that
without breaking? '
i hope he never cracks.
let there be at least
one joyful survivor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem