They, The Crying Clowns

Fractured gems,
The adjectives facilitated into deceiving your sons,
Are unworthy, they are unworthy,
Insist on it!
You decide to walk the tightrope, wine glass in right hand,
Conscience dangling in the other,
I warned you not to join such fools, such clowns,
A retort is in order,
Achtung! Grasping straws for a lunge at me,
But on this plane, you are disabled,
Another accusation
Insisting I am unable to see you for who you really are
Something more than recoils and retorts

Imprisonment in a delinquent’s flight of fancy,
Spike your cauldron, they did,
Volatility.

Flickering light bulbs overhead taunt you,
The chopping block lies in wait like a panther,
Mascara stains apparent to me,
I see your turmoil,
I read grief in the slope of your eyebrows,
Each step weighs two tons, weight of errors,
And I sense your crumbling bricks of facades,
Being enveloped by the shame,
But I turn my cold shoulder,
Because, crying clown,
I am blind,
Remember?

They, The Crying Clowns

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© Hazim Haemoglobin 2012

Poems


They, The Crying Clowns


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