What creativity we hold
In the plasticity of our faces.
That easy smile appears
When a friend asks,
"How are you today?"
We can smile that plastic smile
Like flipping on a light switch.
Inside, emptiness quakes,
A hollow echo, dark,
Empty, and numb.
No sadness remains
After so many losses.
Friends, aquaintances, associates,
Strangers we pass on the street,
Each holding a lifetime
Of ecstacy, agony,
And lingering emotional pain,
Seldom mentioned,
But visible in one's distant stare.
Invisible through
Practiced plasticity,
Able to recreate the expected face,
Social gesture, or refrain.
All the while concealing
The personal pains
Almost ready to rain
Through the plasticity
Because a smiling stranger
Paused to greet one,
In passing, on any routine day.
The stuffed tears
Are fought back,
Until the appropriate
Moment of solo santuary,
Or shared sad flick.
Plasticity is easier
Than reliving,
Never revealing
The personality of the pain.
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