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A Clown's Life


Rusty Broadspear

The clown was happy,

But happiness has gone,

His games have all ended,

There'll be no more fun.

Like flaking paint,

A child's vision

Of a dying saint.

He's now over sixty,

And life has withered,

He's been so sad...

But no-one bothered.

He's made faces smile,

He's made himself cry,

He's filled children with happiness,

And with this thought he'll die.

His genuine smile,

Turned into a frown,

His face full of joy

Where tears now run down,

Childish pranks,

With water and pail,

Then a terrible ending,

To this sad, sad tale.

However... it is so,

And he died all alone,

Away from all laughter,

Where his life was his own.

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