Your smile makes me rebellious.
It makes me resent the world,
those hobgoblins who look at you and fail to see
the real person beneath the pretty mask;
your smile makes me want to compose symphonies,
write sonnets, show the world the beauty they are missing.
But what’s it worth? I’ll go home,
drink a beer, and meditate on one glowing screen
or another. Everyone knows feelings are worthless,
anyway. Without feelings we might be human.
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