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PenguinPoems
A maniacal machine of glad and fad A thing of mystery A man that smiles the brightest of us all No matter the weather, even in the fall The darker stories that he never tells Ring the most often of all the bells These chimes are the very loudest and his least proudest They are the things that lead him to the bars And honestly he hides these scars His laughter is among the most of any Because he was told not to frown by the most of many He is not mad Only empty and sad All alone he is Sharp edges are his only friends Deprived of self expression He's been in a depression And this is why he is a maniacal machine of glad and fad No longer a thing of mystery At least here he's not the smiling man
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 5:08 AM UTC
The Smiling Man
A maniacal machine of glad and fad A thing of mystery A man that smiles the brightest of us all No matter the weather, even in the fall The darker stories that he never tells Ring the most often of all the bells These chimes are the very loudest and his least proudest They are the things that lead him to the bars And honestly he hides these scars His laughter is among the most of any Because he was told not to frown by the most of many He is not mad Only empty and sad All alone he is Sharp edges are his only friends Deprived of self expression He's been in a depression And this is why he is a maniacal machine of glad and fad No longer a thing of mystery At least here he's not the smiling man
When you think about and wonder and realize just like others you smile and laugh more than most, but on the inside you smile the least and laugh never.
#depression#life#death#honesty#smile#despair
Penguin
Written by
Penguin
32/American
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 5:08 AM UTC
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