Clown Time is Over

 

Greasepaint wiped from funeral brow

Furrows reveal the thoughts within

I don’t believe I’m funny now

The crowd no longer taken in

 

Too long I’ve sweated in this ring

Producing squeals for boyish larks

Alas I’m feeling older now

Once in the lights, I feel the dark

 

A clown must smile from deep herein

But all attending see me pace

No laddish smirks, no natural grin

No laughter written on my face

 

Joyless performances abound

I’ve reached that time of every clown

My muse he will not dance again

And I must put the greasepaint down

 

Face painted sad: a false tear falls

A true reflection – a has-been

My hooter fails to raise a cheer

stood stage side body languishing

 

Lines and furrows crease my brow

The sad old clown who couldn’t smile

I take the top hat from my head

I must now sit and think awhile