Let me love to the true faces,
What?
Blessing
are the crummy and ragamuffin faces,
Empty pots
make voices a lot,
Not, all
that glitter is gold.
let me
love to the true faces,
What?
Standing
on the crowd, I see faces;
faces with mask, and make up,
glittering
like gold, smiling like a Cheshire cat,
Some laugh
and smile, while others hide the pain.
What?
Crude
outlook leaks across the soma,
Embellished
eyes attract every neophyte,
I see the
mental exhaustion, and the physical doubt.
I see
faces on the sea shore.
What?
Let me
love to the true face,
Foam
dissipates soon in vain,
The
people, the faces I won't see again.
Should I
accept these people, these faces?
Cynical,
and less appreciable,
Faces,
faces everywhere, I won't see again.
