To drain the serious feeling
which gets to vein,
a joker enters with fun.
His efforts aren't in vain.
He bursts in laughter
He opens his robes,
and throws away
addressing the mobs.
He utters filthy words
to form self-made jokes.
some open grin-box
though it provokes
no smile, nor chuckle,
the claps only hoax.
His gestures are comical,
and face is with paints.
He tells gibberish,
his spine is bent.
He makes the scene tragic,
comedy takes rest,
laughing alone now,
he declares him the best.
Neela Nath's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Comic Relief by Neela Nath )
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
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(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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