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Poetry News Post #910

The Clown

Written by: Lord Tazun Blackmoor, the Heartless
Date: Friday, January 28th, 2011
Addressed to: Everyone


The Clown is amazing, he thrives for the crowd
He jumps and juggles thriving for the laughing sounds.
He hides his pain with all of the jokes,
He awes the crowd with fire, and smoke.
The paint on his face is only a mask,
They never see the pain, they only laugh.
High above the world he seems to be,
If only the world knew he was really beneath their feet.
For his next trick its got to better than the last,
He loads himself in the cannon and braces for the blast.
He flies through the sky and lands on his net, as the crowd cheers,
He gives a noble bow, but inside its only another tear.
The time has come for him to say goodnight,
He thanks you all for coming, and with a flash he vanishes out of sight.



Penned by my hand on the 14th of Fas, in the year 629 AD.


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