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I am a clown playing and laughing as you always see,
Why? I don't know, I think that's how it should be.
But why do I need to be a prisoner of my own,
Depicting funny moments that even in my eyes are haven't shown.

I need to paint my smile and hide on a mask,
Even faking happiness just to perform this task,
I look at the mirror trying to look at what they see,
And in my eyes I saw myself fighting to break free.

How can I tell them that I am slowly drowning in my tears.
If all I can only hear is their loudest cheers.
Where should I run when I'm so down,
When even faith and destiny gives a frown.

I have extended my arms and asked for help,
But they told me "your strong, you can take care of yourself".
Where should I lean if everything goes wrong,
When every one thinks that I'm so strong.

There's no one much sadder than a crying clown,
Tears runs down only when no one is around.
I am also weak and I'm not strong like a Knight,
I am a clown and my Crying Lies Only When Night.
Those who give laughter sometimes suffer alone.

— The End —