We need the influence of the gray hairs
The ones who have tasted the choking air of our less taken road
The ones who survived the assault of foolishness and the curse of being scared
Who fell in love with wisdom when they felt like losing hope
What we need is not merely people older than
What we need is our elders
Wrinkles who understand youthful intelligence and
Know how to inspire us to make it better
We need the old folk
With strong heads on strong shoulders
The ones who command attention like Captains and Generals
The ones who can train young hopefuls into soldiers
The ones set in their stubborn ways
Because being stubborn is what kept them alive
The ones who know God and can call out the immatures and the fakes
And yet give loving guidance over grandma’s cookin at the same time
Grave, responsible, playful, hard nosed- we need our elders
That courageous, legendary, heroic breed of old
Too many young people running around with only idealism as their helper
Whatever happened to love healing the world and truth anchoring the soul?
We need to believe in our elders
And we need our elders to believe in us
Factions fracture, but oneness overcomes failures
And above all, we need to return to in God we trust
Smiles neither reveal what is true nor what is real- they merely strengthen us to trust in the optimistic beliefs held by our imagination. A good smile is like the armored doors to the king’s chambers- even if you manage to break through you’ll only wind up with a fight on your hands. And even if you win your only evidence will be the mocking trails of blood spilled on your hands winding down and curving into a…
A glint of the eyes. A flash of teeth. You think you’ve found your lover, but that could just as easily be your worst encountered enemy. A smile doesn’t mean anything. Sorrow, evil intent, heartache, deception, surprise, irritation…
They all wear smiles.
Trust is completely reliable and almost never readily identifiable because the period to persuasion’s every sentence is a smile. My dear friend died last year from cancer- ask me about her and I will lie to you with my teeth. Deep down there is a joy she brings, but the rest of me is locked in endless grieving.
I have seen the ripples of deception from people who think they’re hiding something from you… basked in the sunrays of brilliant beams from those who think their flaky nature is undetectable. It’s all beautiful really. The artistic ways that Lie has made itself poetically known.
A smile of all things…
Twisting the natural essence of joy itself into a weapon against its bearer… cuz that’s the real kicker. The lying smile is a steady drip of intravenous poison.
But you can be different. I believe in you. Do not fall prey to the snares of society. Do not succumb to the way of these curved beauties…