ClownSurrounded by these tow'ring walls The Master of the Circus calls And beckons me to put on a show Of emotions that I'll never know Laughing colors, glittering lights Combine and align to form stage fright Take the high dive towards the ground Grab the trapeze and don't look down I sprinted 'cross the tightest rope And came close to losing all my hope But somewhere in the midst of it all I stumbled and you caught my fall Sad eyes hide behind painted oppression An exaggeration of a forgotten expression But perfection lives beneath this masquerade A paragonClown
Space Lane
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Poetry account: ~the-beastie
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Poetry account: ~the-beastie
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The Moving Finger writes, and, having writ,
Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears blot out a Word of it.
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Poetry account: ~the-beastie
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"maybe you'll be president and know right from wrong,
or in the flood you'll build an ark and sail us to the moon"
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Yours Truly ..
- Jeff MacLeod
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Poetry account: ~the-beastie
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