If I could smile forever, would it be a blessing or torture? The relics of my past lay here, ready to plunder. Sort through the objects of murk, cast aside the intense, vile need to drink, the sunken images, the dishevelled bed, the catastrophic thoughts only I can see.
If I smiled at you, day-in, day-out, would you believe me worthy, would your infatuation remain devout? If I trust my intuition, making wise, well-formed decisions, would I ride by without guilt and indecision, always smiling unto the morning?
© 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image credit: James Wheeler on Pexels.com
Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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