I am the clown behind the porcelain face.
I am the clown that makes you smile and laugh.
I have lived my life in shameful disgrace.
In truth, I am a master of my craft.
The glass covered with dust reflects a man.
Weary gray eyes with a chained heart of clay,
Led to the slaughter, I was the sacrificial lamb.
I am truest by night, counterfeit by day,
I have become a cat with a different coat,
This pale mask of mine, hides a decaying fool.
Such a life as this is but a cruel joke.
At the feet of the Brass, I was a tool.
With the dying sun, I will be long gone,
I'll be forgotten with the breaking dawn.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem