Poetry

The Circus

Save it for the Masquerade,
The painted smiles that quickly fade
Beneath the grin, a teardrop soaks,
The deepest sorrow that he evokes.
Play the fool, and play him well
Even experience cannot tell.
It prays and clings to vulnerable minds,
One heart to his, this syrup binds.
But never once can it be told,
Of secret kiss and temptation old.
Displace and act a lover true,
And await disaster that will ensue.
These are days you'll live to rue,
This devil-clown is mocking you.

Charlotte Crane