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.