In The Palace Poem by Randy McClave

When a clown moves into a Palace
There is distraction and malice
There is then worries dread and callous
As the clowns voice does ring.
The clown does his many magic tricks
Then he jokes and laughs with the hypocrites
His new home he now does transfix
And to all he laughs and he does sing.
With his orange hair and painted face
He carries a hamburger bag and a empty briefcase
And he places puppets in his new place
All in the West wing.
He arrives in a very short school bus
He screams and cries and makes a fuss
The Palace then becomes a giant Circus
The clown doesn't become a king.

Randy L. McClave