Smile

Smile, it can’t be that bad.
I hear this directed at me as I ride the bus home.
I look up and see a man looking at me.

Come on, smile!
Why? Why do I have to smile for you?
How do you know it isn’t all that bad?

Maybe I just lost my job.
Maybe I feel like shit.
Maybe I am angry about something.
Maybe a loved one died.
Maybe I feel like NOT SMILING!

Maybe I’m taking back my right to show whatever mood I’m in.
Maybe I’m tired of men telling me to smile, like I’m some pretty ornament for their viewing pleasure.
Maybe I should start saying that to men on the bus:

Smile baby, it can’t be all that bad.
Yeah.

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