The silent clowns makes no sound
As they inspire others to leave their woes behind
The mask they wear, a cleaver disguise to hide their own torment
They feast off of the laughter from the multitude of sun filled faces
As the torture they hold within themselves
They use as fuel for the amusement of others
The silent clowns are everywhere
Keeping their true identities hidden
Everyone at one point in their life has met silent clown
That has changed them for the better
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Everyone on this site is a silent clown (well me anyway) Great poem Ian