- 8/12/14 11:48 pm
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Who makes the clown laugh when he is down?
When he’s depressed, who is there around?
He spends all his time cheering up others
Mothers, Fathers, Sisters and Brothers
He puts on a front, he puts on a show
But deep down inside, his own being is low
He’s depended by people to brighten their lives
Yet his own existence is full of trouble and strife
He’s called upon by others when they have worries
He humours them with jokes, actions and stories
But when he’s alone, he starts to feel sad
Isolation and loneliness makes him go mad
His audience has gone, no one for a banter
The repertoire of jokes he tells at a canter
They’re no longer needed, there’s no one to tell
He cries for attention, he’s going through hell
When needing a lift, favours are not returned
He calls for help but his pleas are spurned
Sitting alone, he longs for true company
The chatter of voices, the sound of a symphony
He can’t raise himself, his efforts are wasted
So he sits and cries for the joy he once tasted
Who makes the clown laugh when he is low?
That is the question, for I do not know.
by John W Austin
baigi izklausās pēc Viljamsa