A smile is a funny thing.
It almost never tells the truth.
In between the teeth
and the lips
is a mask.
Below my nose
is a lie.
My cheeks crease by my dimples
where each line is painted meticulously.
Temporary wrinkles
that show who I am.
Who I am supposed to be.
My teeth answer questions that are asked.
No one doubts a smile.
I’ve perfected the art
of looking like someone
who has nothing to cry about.
I clean my canvas every night,
my tears wiping every line away.
I’ll paint it again tomorrow.
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142,097 Literary Works • 676,615 Reviews
With the first stanza, talking about how the smile doesn't tell the truth is very interesting considering this refers to smiles as art. Art cannot necessarily lie but it can be interpreted differently by different people, and tithe speakers perspective that is holding themselves together. The second part really digs more into the art piece, especially the wrinkles. Smile lines, frown lines, it all tells who you are. Also, to afterwards talk of people not doubting a smile, it goes back to art because art is not believed or not believed, but interpreted. Overall I love this poem!