Everyday I paint my face,
Faking another life with grace.
And when I go into my act,
The seats and aisles are truly packed.
My red, blue and yellow attire,
Completely cover the inside crier.
With practiced skill I fall for thrills,
No one knows I sleep popping pills.
It’s funny when I am insulted on stage,
Even funnier when it happens offstage.
Mirth comes easy while I perform,
But anguish is my real platform.
The children love me, so do the elders.
But only when I am dodging jugglers.
In my own skin, I am invisible to them.
By chance if seen, I am treated like phlegm.
But yet I live on, befriending despair.
No more fight in my bones to spare.
It seems I’ve accepted life’s knockdown
I am, after all, the infamous clown.
A contest entry
- Isn't there some way to make this better?? by Forgot2Breathe.
300 points, ended February 7, 2008, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - FROM MIND TO SOUL...spoken verse by LadyLavender.
600 points, ended January 30, 2008, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Really good writing here. The flow and imagery are brilliant. I really loved the rhyme too. You are very gifted. Well done indeed.
All the best
Wayne Leon
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thank you so much leon...ur a major source of encouragement to me
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Strong write. love the rhyme scheme. Thank you for taking me through this internal journey with your write.
Good luck and thankyou for entering. -
Poor clown. But I do love this poem. Its really something I was asking for, because you always think that clowns are happy, but they might not be and all they do is entertain us with funny anticts, we don't care if they're sad, because we're happy.
I love this.
Major Huge Kudos!!
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