confessions of a clown

confessions of a clown

a clowns life,

is not a happy one.

yes, his jobs

to make others laugh,

but at whose expense?

its showtime already.

his face powdered

make up on,

his act is ready.

yet he is nervous.

he's done this a million times,

still,

so many faces

staring down at him.

the spotlights blaze,

music,

clapping,

laughing,

but at whom? 

he enters the stage,

and does his thing.

he can clearly see

each face in the crowd,

each little face smile,

smile transforming,

into something more sinister.

laughter pours through,

like a dam bursting.

the happiness and glee,

suddenly clawing at him,

eroding him.

and no one notices

a floodgate of emotion

slowly cracking,

from of the force 

of so much

misunderstood mirth.

but, he's done this a million times,

he keeps himself

together and instead

weeps inside.