#LastingJoy

I
The Clown was always sad and filled with spite
That everyone would laugh when he would cry;
They thought he played a part all day and night
And never knew the pain beneath his sigh.
In fact, he often wished that he would die
And spare the world his painted misery
That tragically was billed as comedy.

II
The tickets to the circus always sold
So always was their laughter to resound
Around the crying clown who sought to fold
Himself inside his shoes and not be found,
Yet every day he cried and was renowned
For bringing joy to all who would agree
That never a sadder creature did they see.

III
One day The Clown was waddling down the strip,
Stumbling in the mud behind the tent,
And there upon a peg...