They say a picture paints a thousand words <br />my face is tainted white <br />behind it is a thousand hurts, <br />of all my wounds and fights <br />my smile is thrashed from left to right <br />in a dark and bloody red <br />permanently stained in an upward stance, <br />for all to see a fake happiness <br /> <br />Just clowning around <br />Just clowning around <br />I leap and dance for glee <br />acting upon the stage of life <br />such frivolity <br />I'm such a fool, I have no care <br />I seek for a 'peace' of sanity <br />to remove this mask <br />behind which I am such a fake <br /> <br />A tear rolls down my cheek <br />My makeup starts to run <br />Down the curtains roll! <br />Oh you lil' sad downtrodden clown <br />oh how pathetic and poor you look <br />where is your valour and victory now? <br />Is this your accomplishment, is this your feat? <br /> <br />I ride upon my tricycle <br />popping balloons and dishing out cards <br />begging you to take your pick, <br />A king of spades, A queen of hearts <br />and I ride on life's merry-go-round as if it were all so simplistic. <br /> <br />The children laugh, the children play, <br />I am but a child myself this day, <br />it is time for me to grow up they say. <br />I retreat to my stage room. <br />I close the door. <br />I peel off the make up and stare once more <br />at the face in the mirror staring back at me <br />and its a face I do not want to see <br /> <br />It's the face of a woman I cannot accept <br />she has the world at her feet <br />yet feels so incomplete, <br />she feels naked without the painted face <br />and inside her heart is sore and aches <br />she picks up her bag and combs her hair <br />tosses the clown's wig on the chair <br />'They will never know who I am' <br /> 'I can be exactly myself' <br />she thinks, smiles and grins <br />'Till tomorrow, my friends' <br />closes the door and out she sneaks...<br /><br />Margaret Purslow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/just-clowning-around/
