The Smile

No gentle pleasure am I:
I am a discerning mind's lie;
No dimples of truth or teeth of laughter
I am the aftermath of many a disaster.
A sheild of happiness for the saddest sigh
Solace of the eyes that have forgotten how to cry
Mercy to friends, I save them the burden of a friend's grief:
I hide the heart so in want of relief
Mercy to myself, for I know not my friends or foes
Who would care for how my life goes-
I know not what I may convey
Don't look into the eyes, they give me away.