Sunday, June 27, 2010

The Circus


It is the ring in the centre,
The colors ragingly loud
With faces all around us
Unkown, making a crowd
The clowns the dance
With a mask of painted glee
To the tunes of others
Reminding me of humanity
Ribbons, streamers and trapezes fly
Across the empty room
Like a light tossed and stir-fried rainbow
That knows not it is in doom

The crowd, it laughs
With an intentional slip or fall
Or the magic of a unicyclist
Or a seal balancing a ball
All that remains is to wait and watch
The grand finale is yet to come
I walk in slowly taking it all
As the crowd goes silent, deafeningly numb
While the ringmaster lashes his whip

I will stand, I will roar
And no, I will not make a fuss
Because a lion that lives in captivity
To survive, depends on the circus.

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