Words thrown from a roof, bandied about town,
"Bring out your dead" and bring in the clowns.
Life is too short but there's so much around.
All gods are dead, so bring in the clowns.
Offered on satin, a fake golden crown,
no masters or kings, just bring in the clowns.
Leave all of the liars, wholly unsound,
out with the trash and bring us the clowns.
If it appears that there are none around,
put on my makeup and I'll be the clown.
Life is too long and too often too wound.
Out with the masters and bring in the clowns.
Enjoyed this! I love poems with a progressive repetitive structure and am ever a fan of such lines as all gods are dead.. !!
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Like the "out with the masters" part. I'd like to throw mine down a shaft.
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Love it here! <3
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