His cheekbones are hollow,
But he is not empty.
He wears the sad smile
That he's worn for so many years.
His grin is wide,
But his eyes,
They are tried and tired,
Vacant vessels of nothingness.
Yet still he smiles.
As if he knows that which
We do not.
It's a friendly smile,
Wide and toothful.
The smile of an honest man.
But honest men are weak,
Easily broken.
Honest men don't last long,
In this dishonest world.
But he is honest,
And happy.
Happy in his death.
Free from this.
This dishonest world.