Little girl in grey, ragged clothes-
clothes that were given by others who discarded.
She smiles naively; as though the salt-sprinkled wound
did not hurt one bit- she didn't waver.
That scar-tainted arm
that could be so beautiful-
those anyhow-products shampoo
turned her hair haywire-like…
And those cheap things you call sneakers;
torn so much it looks like trash.
And yet through the unfortunate,
she smiles and smiles, and continues to smile.
Her smile was formed from unhappy beings;
the sad sorrows of what she never could have-

but even if even one day of having it all;
she would want to return to the unhappiness…
For no one liked happiness that would never be-
much less for just one day-
it would have been a deeper torture than
the life she always had.