A Refuge For The Happy

When it is all over,
when it really is all done,
when the final nail
has been hammered in
to the coffin at its heart,
when the required signatures
are in place,
there will be a smile
on my face.

(And on hers.
And on hers.)

I will be so happy.

(It’s been a while.
It’s been a while.)

I will be eligible
to enter
the Smile Centre.

They’ll see me coming
a mile off,
maybe two.

They’ll open up the doors,
w-i-d-e,
to let me
and my wide smile in.

And if they ask
‘What have you
got to smile about?’
I’ll tell them,
willingly.


Smile