For All the Sad Clowns by Antony Owen

I am not a silent poet

The scariest clowns I ever saw

had faces of children in masks made by war

the rock-a-by-babies in cribs of a shore.

The scariest clowns I ever heard

were men of parliament but not of their word

who vanished like magic tricks when truths became blurred.

Let me tell you of the saddest clown

they are pink balloons of flesh as children drown

who claimed the blue empire till it claimed them down.

The scariest clowns I ever saw

had faces of children in masks made of war

who sleep on restless sea beds as shells forevermore.

The saddest clown that ever chased us

hash-tagged and mourned as they faced us

we shared their deaths as their lives had displaced us.

The saddest audience I ever saw

wept for the clowns as they pour and they pour

trapezing from fourth worlds to the blue empires floor.

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