But Smiling is Hard

My body is red.
My mind and soul are shaded blue.
My face so often tinted green,
like grass on lovely afternoons.

But smiling is hard,
even on sunny days;
that's why the clouds
have colored themselves gray.

My eyes have turned to glass
with wilted rose petals galore.
The thoughts I have flogged myself with,
I do not want anymore.

But smiling is hard,
even with the full moon bright;
because every night is day
and every day is night.

My song to this forsaken world
has silenced at this time.
Losing the heart to sing and write
and draw and reason and rhyme.

But smiling is hard,
with commotion crumbling the ground;
that I, myself, am lost
in the sight, the scene, and sound.

My smile is still there somewhere,
far beyond near future ties,
far beyond these thoughts I have,
far beyond these sickly lies.

But smiling is hard,
even on sunny days;
that's why I search and search for it
in so many, many ways.

-LJ
14 & 17 July 2015