I want joy to fill my heart and soul . . .
than spill over and light my world . . .
with an abundance of contagious smiles . . .
and an unlimited supply of giggles . . .
to hide that glimmer in my eye . . .
the lonely tear, the size of a muster seed . . .
living the illusion of happiness . . .
fabricated by darkness . . .
haunting my solitude existence . . .
wearing a painted smile . . .
and laughing nervously . . .
fools gather as spectators . . .
there to witness me embrace . . .
my tattered security blanket . . .
the invisible one over-stuffed . . .
with years of lies and deceit . . .
the one filled with leftover sawdust . . .
from the precious and genuine . . .
smiles and joys . . .
the ones proudly on display . . .
and reserved for good little girls . . .
who had mothers who baked cookies . . .
not the sorry grandma’s making a mess . . .
hoping to woo and impress . . .
in her ears she hears the laughter . . .
her heart and soul are empty of joy . . .
she cries silent bitter tears . . .
she’ll be left to fade in the darkness . . .
her presence never missed . . .
her tears will stream quietly . . .
without leaving a stain . . .
no one will care or notice . . .
tears no one would understand . . .
because joy is an illusion in her heart . . .
©Kimberly Wilhelmina Floria