Had always believed in them
the small talks, the insincere smiles
sometimes a lot, a dime
always there
in the good times
I choose to be one
off, sincerely and simply
but there is some value it brings
the formality, the distant connectedness
and the reminder that I see you, remember you, accept you
But the moments the fruits turn sour
take the peace of you away for hours
the acrid tones, the rolling glances, the profiling
the small talks turn sharp like an ivy
we, the small talkers, come in colors
simply there, or social climbers, or cut-throat survivors
the frivolous fruit, if small bites, holds the beauty
but too much is the poison self-made
I still believe in them
the small talks, the insincere smiles
sometimes a lot, a dime
but immunize and stay guard of your peace
even in the good times
