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the circus
Contributed by
me
on
Wednesday, 7th January 2004 @ 01:15:27 AM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
I live at the circus
but the other clowns
are always laughing.
Their house burns down
they laugh.
I can’t.
I’m always redoing
my ridiculous face
with paints
because the tears
make a mess of it every time.
They all know I’m not much of a clown
but they won’t let me go
because they fear
I’ll be an even worse pedestrian.
People in the streets
have no paints.
They don’t wear exaggerated red smiling lips
but they too wear fake smiles.
The clowns believe
that I would be even worse
at wearing THAT.
They say I would be lonely
without loud music
without wild animals
and without my clown friends
but that’s what I yearn for.
I know the real world
isn’t much more real than my circus,
but out there I might find
another failed clown
semi-real like myself.
jan 06/04
Copyright ©
me
... [
2004-01-07 01:15:27] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: the circus
(User Rating: 1 ) by Jolly on
Thursday, 22nd January 2004 @ 08:53:44 PM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
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Oh! How I love this poem. The feeling. I collect clowns. Not because they're funny, but because they are often used to divert sadness or tragedy. When in Italy, my good friend bought me a tiny porcelin representation of the famous Italion clown..crying on the inside...I see it as I read your poem. Mind if I print it and frame it? |
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