To the grave.

How rare it is to see

a rich and genuine

lasting, loving smile.

So rare I find myself

stealing them off

the faces of infants

in the pram.

I smile, they see

and reflect the beam

that shines into my heart.

Not all I must admit.

Many, if not most,

have abject misery

stamped upon them

from the womb.

A misery they will carry

to the grave.