smiling is the world's language,

expressive joy and happiness.

when you look at me,

do you see the same ecstasy

or a sad masquerade, a

powerful distraction

so nobody notices the

swelling of water, the

forgotten reservoir 

of my boyish eyes.



staring at the window

following the southerly journey

of a solitary raindrop,

they always fall down.

has it ever occurred

to that big yellow brain

that my smile is as

plastic

as the white window frame

wet with smashed dreams.



it gets you wondering whether

other supposed beauty

is nothing but a brick wall

hiding a heart of stone.

passion is nothing

love is lust

love is dust

perhaps even beneath 

your disgustingly incessant

lovely prettiness

there is a vacuum

and my aching desire 

is nothing

but fallacy,

sweet fallacy.