The Art of The Smile
I was six years old when I first felt the crippling sadness That I would later go on to characterise as the early symptoms of my depression. I used to laugh when others laughed, But no sooner had the laughter began, it would fade, Faster than the bright spark of a fire cracker Vanishing in the New Year’s Sky. My lips would morph back into a thin straight line, And people would ask me why? “It was funny, just not that funny.” Was my short curt reply, But honestly, I had no Idea why. Why my laughter couldn’t bounce through the echo chambers of my hollow heart And fill me with joy. I never understood why the feeling of happiness eluded me. It would be nine years before I learnt how to smile. See, I had grown weary of my mother’s constant drone, “You should smile more!” she would say Tired of teachers breathing down my neck, Tired of friends not caring, Tired of the endless river of tears I was trying to choke back, Tired of not being okay beca...