Shirin Chitre

Abstract

4.9  

Shirin Chitre

Abstract

A Few Fake Smiles

A Few Fake Smiles

3 mins
281


A Few Fake Smiles and One Broken Heart

 

One night when I was seventeen,

She came to me fairer than a queen.

In a voice enchanting like fresh spring’s song,

Or a siren’s deathly call.

She filled my mind with thoughts of hope,

Showed me dreams of wealth and scope,

Of Misses and marries and sweet berries;

Of fame and fortune and love’s passion-tune.

Enthralled, be-spelled, without a moment’s start

I popped the question; I wish I was smart.

"O charming lady, my silvery goddess,

Name your price and I will not stress."

With a faint smile, she made me shiver,

Honey dipped voice dropped to a quiver.

She played my keys skillful than Mozart,

“A few fake smiles and one broken heart.”

 

She vanished then and I moved on,

Full of promise and a good luck charm.

I conquered the world and fell and flailed.

But rose again, O youth prevailed!

Pushing the unpleasant at a corner unneeded,

The dire warnings of sanity are unheeded.

I marched to battle unfazed, uncared,

‘I shall conquer’ to myself I swear.

I endured bruises and broken bones;

Discarded wounds of flesh and moans,

Till friends turned foes and foes otherwise.

I betrayed them or they betrayed the wise.

There stood I on the battlefield alone,

Left to die lost all once that I owned.

Saved just in time by the chime of holy bells;

A miracle only delayed hells.

I pondered and chewed on the trust I lost,

On the trust that I gave and received a quart.

Remembered the words of folly, of play,

“A few fake smiles and one broken heart.”

 

I met my woman, my love, my joy.

I met my dream, my purpose, and my horse of Troy.

I fell for her over heels overhead,

Lost thirst for water, hunger for bread.

She came to me like a prayer’s grant,

Like a healer’s touch, like a faithfull’s chant.

Oh, merry we were while it lasted!

‘Till scorching fire in the woods blasted.

She left me for doom,

One that was meant to bloom,

Slipped like sand from my palms,

Empty and open now begging for alms.

I heard it again; the soft tune of Bart.

“A few fake smiles and one broken heart.”

 

Years away from that one night,

I lay rotting on my bed, short of sight.

Yet wisdom gained through ages unlike,

Mind full of now useless insight.

My blood once scalding, then warm, now cold,

Witnessed hapless as I let truth unfold;

Through and through mastered I one art

To fake a smile to hide a heart.

As and when time demands,

I move my lips, I play my part.

I strike a pose, perfect prose.

My eyes shadowed, no scruple rose.

Brimmed of mistrust, of fear, of the flaw,

Of disappointment, in myself raw.

She appears to me as I take a final breath,

She laughs her sonorous beat no longer a secret.

She was drama, a game, a ploy.

She pulled my strings and watched with a smile coy.

Her price I had paid in millions worth,

To just regrets I gave birth.

My Goddess, My life turned to depart,

She lay me shattered and weeping on a cart.

A cart of death to carry me to hell,

That which could save me rang such no bell.

They rung in my ears, words breaths apart,

“A few fake smiles and one broken heart.”


Rate this content
Log in

More english poem from Shirin Chitre

Similar english poem from Abstract