CLOWN

Size twenty-two shoes and a big red nose,
An upside down smile, a frown I suppose.

One eyebrow goes up and one goes down.
It's a strange role , that of a clown.

He carries his face and all of his clothes,
In a tattered suitcase and nobody knows.

If he's happy or sad beneath his disguise.
They never do see the tears in his eyes.

And if his heart's a bit ragged and worn,
You'd never guess he'd ever been scorned.

He puts on his face and brings laughter and glee,
To cheer up the likes of you and me.

I have often wondered, when the spotlight goes down,
If the laughter vanishes, from the heart of a clown.

He packs up his face and his funny striped clothes,
His size twenty-two shoes and his big red nose.

When reality returns and the circus leaves town,
Do the tears then fall, from the eyes of a clown?