Look at the clown
Dancing in the street
With funny hair
A red nose
And big clumsy feet

Look at the clown
Looking for a laugh
Vying for an audience
To see his comedic craft

Look at the crowd
They watch the clown play
They laugh and they clap
Then go about their day

Look at the clown
He stands alone in the square
He wipes off his makeup
Combs his messy hair

Look at the clown
His face is not the same
Once the mask is gone
His head is bowed in shame

Look at the clown
He always plays the fool
Always an entertainer
Never once a tool

Look at the clown
And how his story ends
A jester who can always gain a crowd
But never any friends

Strings, strings
Attached to me
Strings that play a melody
I cut the strings
I am set free
But the song is gone
Silence falls
I stay attached
Though freedom calls

Me
A simple word
Referring to one speaking

Self
Slightly longer
Similar in meaning

I
A letter
But has the same purpose

You
Overuse of the first three
Makes this one worthless

The sky is afire
Full of flaming colors
Red, gold, and orange
Streak across the clouds
A blazing inferno of beauty
That fades into softer colors.
Yellow, pink, and purple
A soft glow that slowly melts into blackness
There is nothing
Until little white specks appear
One by one
They glitter and flash
Like diamonds on black felt
The sky is filled with color once more

Consider the dancer
She floats with the breeze
With flowing grace
She moves with ease
Consider the dancer
She seems to fly
She opens her arms
And embraces the sky

One
Two
Three
Counting the seconds
Until insanity
Takes hold of me
Watch the world spin
Plunge into sin
I laugh
I grin
As I count
One
Two
Three

Four
Five
Six
My mind plays tricks
On my eyes
Oh the lies
I spin
To win
My prize
I count
Four
Five
Six

Seven
Eight
Nine
I feel the divine
Everything is nothing
And that's just fine
Seven
Eight
Nine

Reality slips away
It's a price you must pay
To feel free
Just close your eyes
Let go
And count

One
Two
Three

Captive memories
Paper thin souvineers
Of events long past
That fade and crumble to dust
When held by the hands of time