Does anybody wonder how a clown really feels?
Has he any sorrows and unfallen tears?

Do we take him for granted, you and I
When he offers a smile and twinkles his eye.

A clown has a story that has never been told.
He holds it all in and tortures his soul.

Maybe a scar that is too deep to heal,
That has kept him from learning how to feel.

Out on the stage he masks all his pain,
And the people come only to laugh at him.

But when he takes it home after the show,
His spirit is weathered and his face no longer a glow.

He is caught in a trap,
Making his living performing an act.

And no one wants a clown that only cries,
Even when they know, he is telling them lies.

This Mr. Clown I understand.
So reach out if you need a friend.

Do not fear if you are wearing a frown.
I know there is another side to being a clown.

Sit down and tell me your tale,
Without any makeup and your heart full of despair.

Here is your stage for one final show.
Besides you and me no one will know.

Today a clown that I knew,
Spoke of his sadness and when he was through.

He lay down and forever closed his eyes,
Starting the final journey without his disguise.

Now I no longer wonder how a clown really feels.
I have heard of his sorrows and his unfallen tears.

You may take him for granted, but not me.
Each time he smiles and in his eyes, a twinkle I see.

Originally published on Associated Content / Yahoo Contributor Network on March 26, 2009

© Copyright, Han Van Meegerin – All Rights Reserved