a sad true circus
A clown enters on to the stage. He carries a bucket and drags a mop.
His overalls are three sizes too big and his hat is two sizes too small.
His shoes are long and his sleeves are short.
His bow tie is blue and his flower button is red.
His face is white and grey and dirty and blue.
He has one large tears painted upon his cheek.
He stands alone; on stage -and begins to whistle while he works-
mopping and soaking, he slaves away for just a few strokes-
then feigns being tired and pulls out a fake smoke -to fake smoke-
he lights it with a fake match that he throw behind him.
As he fake smokes for a brief second his sadness almost smiles
but then he perks up smelling something in the air- smoke-
he looks behind him and sees a fake fire burning
and he begins to run around in a circle blowing his whistle for help.
Suddenly all the other clowns come rushing in and join the brigade
throwing buckets of fake water on the fake fire and blowing their whistles
and causing quite a commotion-
But soon the buckets are out of water
and the fire is getting bigger.
So the clowns bully the sad clown,
and kick him and punch him and pinch him and throw pies in his face
until he cries and cries and cries and his tears stream out like a fountain
filling up all the buckets with real water
as the clowns throw buckets of tears
upon the roaring laughing crowd.
The End.
a writer who paints
