eventually I think we will sink from <br />all the tears the icebergs leak from the polar <br />caps, and the radio man will say “today <br />we’re sinking with a chance for sunny <br /> <br />skies later”, always later while the land <br />gets smaller and smaller and the time grows <br />later and later, until the face grows weary <br />with wrinkles, take the advice of the <br /> <br />beggar, hold your cup, ask for a little change <br />hold that face straight, hope the others don’t <br />see that hint of a smile at it all, hope the <br />others don’t ever see that imploring smile<br /><br />Ben Paynter<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/he-smiled-i/
