With the start of each day <br />As in his bed awake he lay <br />His life comes flashing to his mind <br />Not a single happy memory he can find <br />He sits infront of the mirror <br />To the reflection of pain and horror <br />On his forehead misery stands bold <br />But he has to hide it, be ice cold <br />So he covers his face with paint <br />Till his agonized expressions are faint <br />He wears a big red broken smile <br />Disguise in a mask of happiness for a while <br />Quickly he runs off to stage <br />Imprisoning his cries full of rage <br />Poeple believe that to his destiny he coped <br />Not knowinh that his heart is only doped <br />They are tricked bye his fake on-stage shine <br />By his discretion and ability not to whine <br />Through skillful tricks minds he daze <br />At him under the spotlight eyes impresevly gaze <br />Only to be blinded from the temporarity of his tranquility <br />Unaware thet he is soon to lose his magical ability <br />Then on the instance the curtains fall <br />He again serrenders his mind, body and soul <br />Own blood covers his hand <br />His hopes are high castles of sand <br />Cursed is whose mind doom stains <br />Guilt running through his narrow veins <br />And like every night he cries himself to sleep <br />With his emotional wounds bone-deep.<br /><br />rowan ahmed<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/diary-of-a-very-sad-clown/
