Ema Orbmoore

Mr. Jester

They call him Mr. Jester
'cause he always starts laughter,
He also plays in the rain,
As if he's not in pain.

They call him 'Man of Laugh'
Making them think he's tough,
Not knowing the story
That his soul is weary.

They want to be like him
But he wishes to be like them,
They think he's contented
But he, on himself, is frustrated.

Everyday he goes to school,
Everybody thinks he's cool,
But they don't know of his fears,
That burst him into tears.

One New Year's eve,
While the world is festive,
Mr. Jester lie on his bed,
With a bullet in his head.

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, February 5, 2008

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Comments about Mr. Jester by Ema Orbmoore

  • Lime and Tequila with a Splash of Pineapple (2/5/2008 11:19:00 PM)

    We only think we know other people. But no one can see into another's soul. Something to think about. I'm glad I got a chance to read this poem. I hope to read more of your work in the future.

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