He who laughs in the circus is dead


thedigitalartist-clown-5068356.jpg
Pixabay

Beneath the shattered moon, his laughter clanks like iron.


The paint cracks his plaster face.


His eyes are two bottomless holes, Where children who gazed deeply die.


Rag hands scratch the empty circus.


Someone's balloon is leaking blood into a cold pool.


Whoever hears his whistle forgets their own breath.


The clown doesn't laugh... he breathes very slowly.



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