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Surviving is like enduring the hell of a bad clown.

He tries to make you laugh and fails miserably.

Then he makes you a useless balloon animal

That’s just going to deflate in a week anyway.
He pretends that he’s funny, but we both know he isn’t.

Suddenly he gives up and his painted-red mouth frowns.
His paint drips from his skin.
With a sigh, he gathers his props and leaves

And I laugh, because I endured.

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