67. The Clown's Testament
Do not laugh at me,
because I am not funny,
just a grumpy fool on his way down,
my greasy mask decaying
mingled with the putrid mucus of my running nose,
congested into some kind of sour goo
just like my failure of a life
supposed to be a pleasantness to others
but which turned to only grief and tears
for this interminably laughing caricature
of a clown, who probably quite soon
will only have his last smile left:
the final scolding deathscull grin.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2006-08-27 at 12:34
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