A row of teeth

I often thought happiness to be a state of mind,
for it is easier to be sad than to be happy,
my love's appear as a row of teeth,

some roots run deeper,
some teeth grow stronger,
some grow crooked,
some ache,
some cause me to bleed when I cleanse them,



Poetry by Che Thomas
Read 468 times
Written on 2007-10-05 at 22:17

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