All those laughters
Are not always real
All those faces in a park,
Wrinkled and weary,
Laugh in a circle,
Devoid of happiness,
No sign of a crinkle,
Eyes without light,
Devoid of life.

Their happy sadness echoes,
On the streets, in apartements,
The dismal vibes reach us
Yet they emanate the fake sentiments.

Stoop a little and evesdrop that circle,
They deceive emotions, black and purple,
All you hear is a shouting troop,
We know the truth of a laughing group.