A bag of melancholy emotions collect
within empty features, secluded & vacant.
No tears ever weaken this collection
of barren reflections.
Only whispers escape, soundless gestures.
It collects from distressed abrasions,
to smear upon its outer visage.
Always motionless it wonders the
surroundings to celebrate the humour
of its desolate existence.
A child wonders closely, asking if
this creation of lost collections is in
need of chloroform smiles.
it looks and hands a rose,
its leafs embers of its mourning.
Smiling, this miniature silhouette,
slashes out at the one who parented it.
Cleaving what was smiles,
now carved features smear a face of
sullen smiles, as like the petals falling lifeless.
Tears flow like rivers, the contortion of
happiness fades when the last petal erodes
a motion under hidden gestures facilitate
this happiness to see such butchery of innocence.
But it is short lived like always, paper frowns collect.