A State of Truth
You discern the nature of my smile swiftly,
for my eyes are perpetually in a state of truth.
Blue hopes ringed upon dishearten acuities, shouting to the world
A broken man stands here! Splintered! Shabby!
Just a few seams left stitched, apt for a casual plucking.
Though my halfcocked forgery be thwarted as it may, my bluff still remains of use.
I do not smile for you.