The music chimes around everyone, as the clowns come out.
There for fun and happiness, don't trust them little one.
The balloons are filled with poison, and if popped, you know the result.
Do not give into their lies about joyous adventures and fun, fun, fun!
Never run away with the circus, the singer is out back, smoking her *** with the lions.
The acrobats are in their carriage making out.
The knife thrower is popping his pills, his costume covering the bandages from the encoring crowd
The clowns leading little girls into the forest, with a cheery smile.
A vile smile.
"It's just a game, now be quiet"
The elephants being whipped and running in circles,
a bear riding a little bike,
the horses gasping for air and dying for a drink.
How evil.
The ringleader getting off inside all the dancers, his performers, his workers. What a wonderful man.
The tent has risen, high and mighty on the east side of America, luring in the innocence of others that just want to feel joy.
Least some survive and are not touched by the vile truth, and are forced to dive down into acceptance.
They are not happy.
They are evil.
Real.
A cloud of smoke leaves the singers mouth, as her eyes are covered in a red shading, her green eyes popping out.
The knife throwers container dropped to the floor, his body throwing up blood, tearing itself up piece by piece.
A flashlight growing over the clown in the woods.
The girls leave the ringleaders carriage, as he throws his head back, consuming liquid courage, fighting off his demons from the past.
No one is truly happy, this is the real world.
Cruel, Corrupt, Sick, Twisted.
Wrong
Messed up poem by a messed up head.
