The Clown

Only clowns smile as they weep.

This thought possesses my mind
As I put away
The tins of greasepaint;
The overlarge shoes;
The water-squirting fake flower;
And that painted-on smile.

That “smile”, that hid
The sad face beneath it.

It looks up at me,
From the re-used storage box,
Still smiling
As the lid comes down
And places it in darkness.

March 8, 2014, Los Angeles

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