You wear it well, that smile of yours;
and I know enough about you to know you wear it well.
The way you twirl your hair, having it wrap around your fingers;
and the color of your eyes, I think they all can tell.
They’ve always been important to you;
after all, I know you perfectly;
and after everything they’ve put you through,
you’ve always worn it well.
You wear it well, that face of an angel;
but in a devilish way, you go about acknowledging it.
The way you use, and abuse, get them for whatever they have;
this way, when they leave, you’re not surprised.
But you wear it well, that smile of yours,
even a broken mirror doesn’t lie.