Smile

From nowhere I run to nowhere at all Along a thin blade made of steel, The cities fly off into the distance, And my legs are a little worn out. The speedometer reads thirty-one, Not years, though — earthly incarnations. An insatiable Aladdin inside Passionately craving adventures. He's worn out all but a handful of those Who ride with me on the flying carpet. Among the prose — like blank verse, But I'm in need of a colourful binding. At times this fire is a burden to me, There's no escape from my own self. But I hope it never cools, Never gets gnawed through by the worms of doubt. But then the rainy season comes — That's when they crawl out into the open. I'll crush them quickly under my sole And look at the reflection in the puddle. In the muddy slush I'll barely make out A radiant one, full of laughter, Maybe not showing all thirty-two, The one that will guarantee success