A face painted as if it were porcelain,
Blood red smeared, to resemble lips
Glass blue eyes peer, from within blackness,
Tis the smile that scars this mind.
Clothes made of coloured splashed rags,
Shoes made to look bigger than usual
A hat that sits ridiculously small,
Tis this costume you wear that scars this mind.
You smile and run like the village fool,
Harmless, funny the centre of stage;
Laughter follows your stupid ways
Tis the fakeness that scars this mind.
Showing all; you are not a real man
Making people see what was never there,
A mystery, illusion, coloured fuzzy hair
Tis this trickster that scars this mind.
Ending your show, with a clank and a BOOM,
Grinning with stained yellowed teeth,
Bowing stupidly toward the crowd;
Tis the man hidden behind the mask,
That scars this mind.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 7:31 AM UTC
A face painted as if it were porcelain,
Blood red smeared, to resemble lips
Glass blue eyes peer, from within blackness,
Tis the smile that scars this mind.
Clothes made of coloured splashed rags,
Shoes made to look bigger than usual
A hat that sits ridiculously small,
Tis this costume you wear that scars this mind.
You smile and run like the village fool,
Harmless, funny the centre of stage;
Laughter follows your stupid ways
Tis the fakeness that scars this mind.
Showing all; you are not a real man
Making people see what was never there,
A mystery, illusion, coloured fuzzy hair
Tis this trickster that scars this mind.
Ending your show, with a clank and a BOOM,
Grinning with stained yellowed teeth,
Bowing stupidly toward the crowd;
Tis the man hidden behind the mask,
That scars this mind.
Copyright JA Cauchi
