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Big Top Blues

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Big top drowning in her tears.
Noise surrounding every fear.
Circus here, circus there.
Circus life is everywhere.


Sounds loud as thunder, as they clap.
Clowns dancing in their caps.
Mother, father, both lead her in.
She stares up at those with painted chins.

A trumpet blows, causing calm.
She is seated with clenched palms.
The crowd goes silent,
As the clowns erupt, sounding violent.

Tossing pies every which way,
The most sinister kind of play.
She dares not make a single sound.
For fear of being found.

Fireworks exploding loud.
As the bearded lady addresses her crowd.
A ring of fire held so high.
The lights go dim and performers fly.

Her head is spinning now.
Circus life can take its bow.
She does not care for those freaks.
Someone else can take this seat.



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tinytim said...
Jun. 24, 2011 at 8:05 am
I like the child view of the circus.
 
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