The Circus Clown

The Circus Clown
A smile concealed beneath a frown.
Speaks as Free-spiritedly
as they come.

Underneath it all
 Is
Painfully old-fashioned.

Laughs at a friend's indiscretions,
And offers advice
non-judgemental.

Sees the good in everyone
Turns his pain inwards.
A weapon for self-flagellation.
And you'd never fathom
or foretell.

Self-sacrificing can be a pretty nasty spell.
The efforts often go unseen.
Oh!
Just how stupid has the jester been.
Stretching himself far too thin
For pals who barely glimpse.

Taken for granted.
His Contagious Laughter trickles.

As travesties and injustices of their lives
to him they lay bare.
Easy banter
A silly tale.
He comforts but exceedingly well.
Like A magic potion
some sort of elixir.
In exchange to death's paltry knell.

Ah! the world's swell!
For Once more
In the compatriot's life 
'All is well!.'

Inconspicuous in his absence.
Is the clown.
But then the comrade requires a favour
And the joker's but always there.

Gratitude he values.
Always forgotten.
The buffoon values promises more than he should
No wonder he is grossly misunderstood.

Sadness, A gloomy cloud 
enrapturing his chest
Transgressions committed deliberately by loved ones
he holds firmly against his breast.
And weeps gently.
Alone.
Whilst wondering whether he probably deserved it.

Melancholy.

Melancholy.
Between where she is
And desires to be.

The world around her
And how it should be.
Melancholy.

She could change them,
She tried
Stifled instead she feels inside.

She waits for him
to take her hand.
He lives far-off 
in a distant land.

Lone,
With a million pieces of solitude for company.

Come along lingering lover,
Perhaps then I wouldn't be this melancholy. 

If only happiness were a charm,
That I could sprinkle around.
if only bitterness and resentment were far gone.

Lesser expectations of people.
Maybe then they'd come around.
Could it be that they see me, 
as something of a class-clown?

Friendships last a while
Wisdom teaches me to accept this 
and smile.

Decency is appreciated
If it were more common-place.

The only true love lies within.
Everything else
is 
but an illusion.

Another time another place.

      I was in love with this city. Once. Now I know what it means when they say 'Familiarity breeds contempt.' The city with illiterate Indian men that don't hesitate to remind me that I am indeed resembling an 'item' tonight. Never mind the fact that I'm draped like a virgin. Or even am one. How I digress.
This city where I'm looked at weirdly even as I'm merely waiting for a Best bus at 9:25p.m. No I'm not a call girl, Mister. You in the formal white, buttoned-down shirt with the greasy hair, charcoal-ish tan and leery eyes.
The stupid neighbour inquisitive neighbour house-wife, has eyes only for me. But to marry your son.  Oh gee! I am flattered. Why else would she concern herself with how much I was being remunerated or otherwise. But 'Anton' [her son] does reminds me of my Dad. That is not a compliment.
If only I belonged to the 'Marry a man who reminds you of your father.' train of thought.
A Bumbling busy body who concerns herself with whether I'm going out for the evening, whilst sporting a Navy blue dress on my birthday. And she isn't even related to me by blood, mind you. Lack of privacy, the infrequent buses, ceaseless forty minutes of staring at the man walking his dalmatian across the busy street. Having the bhaji-wala comfortably grinding his privates against my nether regions for a good twenty minutes and then having buffalo-skinned men that even weigh like them, animals brushing against petite, delicate me to get ahead.
A good hour and a half of travel. One-way. Drenched in sweat, that's possibly not even my own. Crowded buses make for convenient excuses to satisfy a pervert's appetite. My mum knows of a man who deliberately  boarded a public transport bus during peak hours for reasons of leisure and pleasure.
Times like these I wish I lived in another city. A land where men are civil with their ladies. A free-spirited one, where women could flit about. The manner in which my best friend Amber looks sweetly at her fiance's smile, I view travel. Pray tell me where I could move? Even as my mother looks on exasperated. [Emotional post. Posted frantically. Errors might be spotted!]