Every time I feel happy
I smell like a baby soap,
In silky toothless smile
From an excess crying .
I feel rich with its smells
And smell of my riches.

Eye’s tears smell sadly,
Glistening pearl drops
Like old sun’s dropping
From its dusk farewell,
Temporary day’s death,
A far cry from last one.

Deaths are crybabies
Permanent after dusk.
They do not smell rich
Nor smile as baby soft.

Advertisements