I need to pen a poem about him,
As he wanders in circuses far and wide,
He makes the people laugh and
Cry in delight,
With his pink hair and red nose,
He is quite a sight,
He sometimes rests after a day of entertaining,
But after the facade is wiped out, only droopy lips remain,
He wonders how and when the sun sets and rises,
Like a lost lamb, he sometimes bleats softly to see if anyone hears,
Standing tall but feeling small,
He walks the paths of many gone before,
He makes the whole world laugh yet waits for the one who will make his soul smile
I see him,
And willingly meet him in the silence of the wired worlds,
Where words abound and sense of time is gone.
;)
© shaqila
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 8:56 AM UTC
I need to pen a poem about him,
As he wanders in circuses far and wide,
He makes the people laugh and
Cry in delight,
With his pink hair and red nose,
He is quite a sight,
He sometimes rests after a day of entertaining,
But after the facade is wiped out, only droopy lips remain,
He wonders how and when the sun sets and rises,
Like a lost lamb, he sometimes bleats softly to see if anyone hears,
Standing tall but feeling small,
He walks the paths of many gone before,
He makes the whole world laugh yet waits for the one who will make his soul smile
I see him,
And willingly meet him in the silence of the wired worlds,
Where words abound and sense of time is gone.
;)
© shaqila
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