Nothing to hear, no ads, no pennons,
no free candies wrapped in multicolored silky cocoons,
just old paper, leftovers, an outdated program,
nobody selling balloons next to the ropes of canvas.
Look! There is a strange title – free entrance...
Yet nobody wants to see the clown, the bird of fire,
I, my colored face, funny pants, no safety net,
my arms spread as I walk on the wire, smiling.
Then, why I, a clown, had to pay a price so high,
no helpers, girls and valets, young or old...
from the shaky wire I look at the sky,
my shoes too big, my bandana's gold fake.
No more monkeys, elephants, and that lion with a crown,
always the same faces, the same public, I am not sure
if they came willing to see me, the lonely clown
or just to hide from the rain, feel secure?
I smile, but can't see their heads, can't feel,
the past is not coming back, pictures fade away.
My smile is a mock, just a drawing, but the tears are real,
in the battle with earth's gravitation I still sway.
I look for security at the other end of the wire,
between the holes I am able to see a blue sky and day,
those who sleep so quietly can't be woken up with my fire.
Maybe I need to scream, and like a bird... fly away.
Honorable mention
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