True tears from a clown
By Fiona Cummings
Way back when
As comedy saved lives
The elimination of
frowns
Was a challenge for the clowns
Can you imagine the fear
The painted on smile
To disguise the tear
Even for a short while
Then when behind a closed
curtain
One thing was for certain
Would it be death or living
Taken away for giving
Years of laughter
Acts which deserved a bafta
But the paint, hid lines
Of dark sad times
We can’t go around
With a visible mask
on now
Though a story can be told
Upon our furrow brow
We no longer get decapitated
But find ourselves debilitated
By the narrow minds
Of shallow times
Cut off in one’s prime
Not being allowed to show ones expression
Thrown against the wall with no emotion
So those with selfish hearts
And bitter mouths
Can make a start
And feel aroused
Stamping on whatever gets in their way
So they can hog the sun every day
Leaving the hurt to hide away
Well I hope what goes around
Comes around
And they too
Shall crawl on the
ground
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