He was never really
\nhappy
\nwhen the circus came to town
\nhe wore his badge of courage
\nhis white perpetual frown<\/p>\n
his papier mache features
\ngave him a scary look
\nbehind the mask to those who ask
\nhe just lived by the book<\/p>\n
with all those travelling people
\nhe never got along
\na nomad he had never been
\nwith them he just felt wrong<\/p>\n
he had met an Indian women
\non a dusty bus in Delhi
\nand she had shown him happiness
\nbut left him when his love
\nwas rampant
\ndisease had spread into her and her life
\nleft her and it left him too, he loved her
\nhe’d worshipped her and so as to survive
\nhe returned to England feeling desolate
\nand joined a troupe of clowns performing live<\/p>\n
in circus, schools and hospitals
\nentertaining those
\nchildren who apparently
\nliked his red ball nose
\nbehind his mask
\nhis eyes were full of tears
\nhe missed her so
\nshe comforted him and to lose her left him
\nwith such woe
\nthe clowns he knew most of them were hiding
\nfar from free
\nescaping to a world of pain far from reality<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Clowns make us laugh or do they? Continue reading