I,
The Sage fool,
Am trapped
in a birdcage
Of lies,
Aged away
in this wooden
stage,
left to decay
As I entertain
The ones who complain,
The ones who don’t know
When the curtains close,
I go into rage—
Because I can’t get help
When I hate myself.

Memories inked
in bleeding words,
Filling every page,
Ready to fleet away.
A chapter of stories I keep,
hidden deep in the
basement mind,
worsened everyday
With unkind echoes
As I listened.

While I,
The Wise Fool,
Forced to wear
A fool’s masked grin
to deceive,
To hide what’s real in me—
Like a trick up my sleeve.
Used my talent
To inspire the
ignorant—
They **** my hope,
Shove a bitter
pill of judgement
down my throat
To keep me on silence,
Yet I still stand.

I am the fool,
The entertainment,
I am the sage,
A wisdom they fear
but never lamented.

I’m the fool
With a smile,
But throughout
my wise miles
I played their games,
My wisdom blazes in
their mocking flames.