Smile

She had a lovely smile, they said,
Although she wore it tight;
She donned it when she left her bed,
And polished it at night.

Her best friend said to grin and bear,
And so it grew and grew,
But what she buried under there,
Not even one soul knew.

It made her shallow to behold,
Until her friendships failed;
Where once each smile was rare as gold,
Their worth by then had paled.

Though popular with strangers, she
Could not hold on to love-
Disatisfied, men left her free,
An empty, unmatched glove.

The day the car did not look right,
Her face shone like the sun;
Her viewing was a lovely sight-
Too bad no one had come.


--Megan Morris, meikundayo@yahoo.com