The boy's small face looks up
and he calls out for his daddy
with all the trust and all the love
right there in the little child's eyes.
The lights go down,
the spotlight comes on
and the trumpets sound.
Under the bright light stands
the world's greatest clown.
He runs around on the stage
he stumbles, and he falls, gets up
and then falls down again.
Looking at the sea in front of him
of all the laughing faces, he knows
this is where he was born to be.
There is happiness
in the clown's heart tonight.
This is his life's work.
His act is now in full swing.
The funny faces,
the somersaults and laughter,
on stage tonight the clown is king.
The boy eaten with fever
and ravaged by pain
looks up for comfort
into his father's face.
The clown takes his
child in his arms
and he begins to pray.
But in the child's eyes
there is no more light,
and in his little chest
there is no more breath
and in this tiny room
where once was joy
all that's left is
the smell of death.
He leaves the stage
with tears down
his painted face.
But the people cannot
see the clown's pain
and they cheer and
applaud the master
who tonight has
given them
so much pleasure and
so much laughter.
Chris Zachariou
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-clown-26/
