Bit of a ten minute-er , based on current mood.
There’s nothing like old friends, or kids
to kick you hard, under the ribs –
evidencing, as they do
how much things change, and how much you
and smiling past selves have been lost
as ghosts; evaporated like tears.
Pretending to be happy turns you grey.
The mask will have to crack one day.
The desperate mirth of Comedy’s smile
tilting to Tragedy’s broken wail.