What Mends
Your pretty smile
is a hush beneath thunder,
a gentle harbor
in the stresses of man’s days.
The world shouts, breaks, and tumbles –
but you,
you are the smile
that mends it.
You walk by,
and the noise holds its breath.
Not out of fear –
but reverence.
Like dusk,
when light lingers a little longer
just to stay near you.
No grand speeches.
Just grace.
And a kind of quiet
that makes men remember
what peace feels like.
You smile, and the world forgets its weight.
