I am fine.

The sadness in me finds no expression,

So I paint a smile on my face While the sadness festers,

Rotting the core of my being.

Still, I wear the plastered smile of a happy chap,

Always replying,

“I am good,”

“Everything is fine “

“It’s nothing_, never mind.”

Slowly, I begin to die,

My tears unrepentant in their anger,

Still, the plastered smile,

Sits and feeds off my sadness,

Guarding against any help,

Consigning me to my immutable fate.

The gallows will come for me soon,

The smile will welcome them even before my very eyes.