The Clown


There’s a clown in the swamp
Where the alligators lay
His smile will never fade
There’s a door, with a sore
That he’s opened before
with the bills, he’s not paid

There’s a fair, unaware
There’s a moth in her hair
Her buzzing never fades
Till her grin stumbles in
Like it knows where she’s been
of its own escapades

They greed on the need
Whenever, together
The heart is always betrayed
Yet, its together they see
Alone there’s no soul
Just games that are so often played….


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