Clown Soul - Poem by Kelly Zion
People laugh, people stare
people smile, but they don't care
'Go back to the circus, we don't want you here'
don't you know the show is over?
Follow the clown home, watch her take off her face
the circus wants performers, so she puts on the pain
and cuts her hair short and dies her soul gray
Watch the clown do her act, don't forget to not applaud
but pay her her dues so she'll stay on the job
Oh, she's ugly and she's plain, what else has she lost?
But when she rips off her disguise and the tears come to her eyes
and she puts on her heels and takes out her wig
when she walks and she smiles to broken Coldplay
don't laugh at her then, that's who she really is
When she breaks on the mic and falls to her bells
when her knees start to bleed like a broken little girl
because the cement on the stage is her mother of pearl
and her father never loved her because she never had a father
when she walks alone and brings awake
this small little town
don't laugh at her soul, don't call her a clown
her wig is more real then her dead cut-up hair
her bright cheerful outfits or dark ones with pain
Oh, her music and her soul should never be buried
so follow her home, but promise not to laugh
she might show you the real girl under the mask.
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